


The Agreement

by followyourenergy



Series: One-Night Stand [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bottom Castiel, CPA Castiel, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Divorced Castiel, F/M, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity Outside of Castiel/Dean Winchester, Intoxication, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, One Night Stands, POV Dean Winchester, Pining, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexually Frustrated Castiel, Sexually Frustrated Dean, Sexually Transmitted Diseases, Top Dean, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-03-05 12:07:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 64,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13387479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/followyourenergy/pseuds/followyourenergy
Summary: Lady Luck just can’t seem to help herself from kicking Dean Winchester in the balls.  Unlucky in love (or whatever it was) once again, Dean finds himself down and drunk in his familiar spot at the Roadhouse, trying to figure out what to do next.  He meets Castiel Milton, a serious, weird, sexy, and equally-drunk divorced man looking for a good time.  They get along well, and they agree to a one-night stand... no commitments, no complications. But through a series of events, their one-night stand gets delayed... and delayed... and delayed.  And while they’re waiting for their inevitable hookup, Dean finds himself in the healthiest, happiest relationship of his life, a relationship he never meant to have with a man he isn’t meant to have for more than a night. Will Dean let go of the man he’s fallen for to keep their agreement?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So I’m trying something a little different (for me). I started to write the companion story to this fic, “Just a One-Night Stand,” in Castiel’s POV. I missed having Dean’s point of view, though. So... rather than starting “Just a One-Night Stand” over (because I really liked the challenge of one POV in a longer fic), I’m writing two! This story is from Dean’s POV. They can each stand alone, so you can read just one or read them consecutively... or you can read them concurrently, as I’ll be releasing them within a day of each other each week! If you like the idea of knowing what the other character is thinking or doing, or seeing things that happen to one character that are not included in the other fic, you’ll have the option. Each story will have a bit of repetition (such as dialogue), but I’ll do what I can to make each one unique by giving you a glimpse into the thought process of the main character and sometimes will include additional dialogue not included in the other fic. Whatever you choose to do, I hope you enjoy it. :)

Lady Luck just can’t seem to help herself from kicking Dean in the balls.

Dean drags his sorry ass into the tiny efficiency apartment above the Roadhouse, the bar his Aunt Ellen owns. It’s a Friday and the parking lot is already filling up, but Dean’s not worried about finding a seat later if he wants it. Somehow he knows he always will, right at the bar, like it just sits there and waits for him to arrive after he fucks up yet again. _Well, it won’t be disappointed_ , he thinks as he drops his clothes into the laundry basket at the end of the bed that barely fits two grown men. Not that it needs to.

Dean showers the grease and dust from work off his body and changes into a fresh t-shirt and jeans. He settles on the shitty rust-brown couch and flicks through Netflix and Hulu for God knows how long before he turns his computer off and stares at the wall. Dean sighs and makes himself stand up. He doesn’t know what he wants to do tonight, but he knows he doesn’t want to be stuck in this pathetic apartment with his pathetic train of thought. He needs to eat something, maybe. He hasn’t really been very hungry the past few days. _Gah, stop thinking about that!_

Not quite sure what he wants to do with himself just yet, Dean figures beer is a good start. He moseys down the back staircase and steps into the bar, taking a seat toward the end of the varnished wooden surface. Yep, of course the seat is there for him, like some sort of consolation prize for his bruised nuts and bruised ego. Ellen eyes him sharply and delivers a beer.

“You watch yourself, now,” she warns. “Don’t go doin’ anything stupid.”

“Already did,” Dean says as he takes a swig. “Six months of stupid, actually.”

She ruffles his hair but says nothing else.

Dean glances around, checking out the people wandering about, talking like everything is just fine in their lives. Maybe it is. _Well, good for them_. He gets lost in his thoughts and two (or three) more drinks before he notices the guy perched a few stools down from him. Dark hair and a suit. Professional guy. He wonders how he found his way here. The guy asks Ellen for a beer; she assesses him and hands one over. He sees the guy’s face a bit better and hears himself make an appreciative sound in his throat. _He’s hot. Not that it matters, but hell, I’m not dead_. Dean watches the guy focus on his phone. His eyes roll sarcastically, as if he’s talking to himself about something ridiculous. His brows and lips twist into a scowl as he punches at his phone until, seemingly satisfied, he tosses it down and takes a long drink of his beer, the same kind Dean is drinking.

“Dude, you look like you’re trying to murder your phone with your eyes,” he calls out. He can’t help himself. The guy looks so intense, it’s comical.

“Not exactly. Just this Tinder thing.”

“That’s how Big Brother gets you, you know,” he jokes. He hopes it was funny. In his current state, he’s not sure if he sounds funny or crazy.

“It mocks me,” the guy frowns, squinting at the fancy phone.

The guy’s little scowl at his phone is cute, no denying it, and when he sits down next to him he realizes the guy isn’t just cute, isn’t just hot, he’s _really fucking hot_. He never knew he had a thing for guys in suits, but there it is. Despite his desire to avoid everyone and everything after the way Benny screwed him over, he turns on the charm like a bad habit (which it kind of is).

“See, that’s why I don’t use it,” he smiles.

“You don’t use it because your phone is stuck in 2005,” the guy snarks. _Oh, it’s like that, is it?_

“Gets the job done, like me,” he smirks as he winks, watching for his reaction. Most people (women and men alike) are easily fooled by his flashy charm, but this man seems to see beyond it. It’s a bit disconcerting; he doesn’t want this guy to see how vulnerable he is. _Time to change the subject._ “So, what’re you in for?” he asks.

The brunet looks around and asks if he stepped into a prison, and for some reason it strikes him as absurdly funny. Maybe it wouldn’t be if he hadn’t had a few already, but now he thinks of every bad prison porno he’s ever seen and he can’t stop himself from snickering.

“Fun,” the guy says. It takes Dean a moment to remember why the guy might be saying that, then he remembers his question.

“You’re in here for fun?” he asks. The guy doesn’t really look like he’s dressed for fun, nor is he with anyone else. He looks kind of sad, actually. Dean should know. When he comments on it, the man says that he’s here to find someone to have fun with. It shouldn’t, but it makes his dick perk up a bit. He can’t help his bodily reactions, even if he’s in no mood for a new guy in his life.

“You’re here to find someone to have fun with?”

“Mmm.”

 _Intriguing. God, this guy is hot as fuck. Maybe… nah. But maybe?_ “You got a name?”

“That’s kind of a stupid question,” the guy says, and Dean can’t help but smirk. What a smartass. He likes it.

“Alright, I’ll rephrase. _What’s_ your name?”

The guy’s name is Castiel. It seems like a fancy-ass name to go with the fancy-ass suit, but not with the less-than-fancy-ass guy drinking by himself on a Friday night. He wants to have fun, he said, and the guy looks like he could use it.

“I’m gonna call you Cas. It’s funner,” Dean decides, just to goad him a little. It works. The guy seems grossed-out by his use of “funner,” but not in some pretentious way. He says he doesn’t know how to have fun, but Dean isn’t convinced.

“Sure you do, you just aren’t having fun _right now_ ,” he tries to convince the guy. Cas. “Like, in life. You’re not having fun in your life _right now_. I can tell.” _Of course I can tell. Same-same_. “So why do you want to have fun?”

“Because I’m divorced and sexually unsatisfied,” he answers, which Dean did not expect at all. The divorced thing, maybe, but the other part, hell no. Huh. Come to think of it, Dean’s been pretty unsatisfied himself, and this has been a shitty week. Maybe they can help each other out.

“Ah. Well, you need a wingman?”

“No, just a man.”

_Well, that’s surprising and promising. Don’t overreact._

“Say what now?” Dean asks, just to be crystal-clear.

“I _said_ I need a man.” His eyes are defiant. He seems to think Dean might give him shit about it. Well, he certainly will not. Not when this fine opportunity is presenting itself.

“Oh yeah?” Dean asks, leaning in just enough to show his interest if Cas looks closely. “And what do you need a man for?”

Castiel leans in, mirroring his companion. “What’s your name?”

 _Uh, okay. That’s a weird segue._ “Dean.”

“Well, _Dean_ , I need a man to pound me so hard we crack plaster and break bed frames.”

“Holy fuck,” he murmurs. It’s all he can think of.

“If it’s that good then yes, it will be, because I’ll be screaming his name like a prayer.”

Dean’s at full attention now. He can’t believe that this guy - this hot professional whose voice sounds like thunder - is into guys _and_ into bottoming. Shit. It’s like his fuckin’ dream come true, especially after everything with his boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. He gulps and shifts around, hoping Cas can’t see how turned on he is. Suddenly, Cas buries his face in his hand. He looks like he’s trying not to laugh; a rosy blush is overtaking his face. It’s completely charming in a totally not-sleazy way. Dean can’t help his own nervous laughter; this guy is doing things to him that shouldn’t be happening. Things like making him forget to be cool and forget that he’s miserable.

“Shit, Cas, that’s a hell of a line. You ever use it before?”

Castiel seems to say “fuck it” when he says, “No, I can’t say that I have. Six years of marriage eliminated the need to flirt.” He drinks his beer, and Dean drinks his. He’s on, what, his fourth? Fifth? He can’t remember now.

“Maybe that’s why you’re divorced,” Dean suggests. “You didn’t flirt with your wife enough, keep the fire stoked.” _Maybe if I’d done the same, I’d still be in a relationship._

Cas taps his chin sarcastically. Dean’s not sure if that’s a thing, but it’s the best description. He says, “No, actually we’re divorced because she decided screwing the minister at her new church was in her best interest.”

Dean chokes on his beer at the unexpected admission. _Fuck. I’m such an ass._ The guy is nice enough to pat Dean on the back as he catches his breath. “Sorry,” he says, which is the last thing Cas should be saying to him. He was the idiot.

“No, I’m sorry, man. It was kind of a shitty thing for me to say, anyway.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Castiel shrugs. He explains that his wife was fucking her minister, which is all kinds of crazy. Even crazier is that she was so insecure about his bisexuality that she thought _he_ was going to cheat on _her_. Why did people think that sort of shit? Just because someone’s into both doesn’t mean they can’t be faithful. Hell, plenty of people who are only into one gender can’t keep it in their pants. Obviously. “So why are you here, anyway?” he says to change the subject. Dean can’t blame him. It’s tough to talk about the shitty things that have happened to you. Dean thinks it’s actually sort of funny that they’ve been through the same thing.

“Funny you ask,” Dean says. He downs several gulps of beer for some liquid courage before continuing. “So get this… ha, fuck, my brother always says that. Anyway, so I got this boyfriend. It’s actually our six month anniversary tonight.”

“People celebrate those? Romantic. My ex-wife and I weren’t really romantic.”

Dean refrains from rolling his eyes. “Yeah, well, I’m here getting drunk with you, so what does that tell you?”

“Tells me this isn’t going to be a nice story.”

“Exactly.”

Cas looks chagrined and he apologizes for trying to get Dean into a one-night stand since he has a boyfriend. Dean doesn’t understand if he wasn’t clear or if Cas is too drunk and didn’t hear him. He has to correct him, and it kind of hurts.

“ _Had_ , Cas. I _had_ a boyfriend.”

“Oh. I should stop interrupting.”

“S’okay,” Dean says, then his own inebriated mind catches up. “You wanted to have a one-night stand with me?” He can hardly believe his ears. Given his level of inebriation, he’s not sure he should believe them.

Cas stares at his hands, which are clutching onto his beer bottle as if it’s a life preserver. He looks nervous and Dean finds it quite endearing. He’s not sure what the guy has to be nervous about; he’s hot as hell and Dean really isn’t a catch. “Well, yes. I thought that was obvious. Was my flirting that bad?”

Dean breaks into a laugh. _This guy is so cute. Why the hell is such a nice guy interested in me? And why not six, seven months ago rather than now?_ But at his worried look he realizes Cas thinks he’s laughing at him. “Sorry, no, it’s not you, it’s… God, this whole thing is fucked up. Let me finish my story.”

Dean tells Cas about how at first he moved in with his ex to help him with bills because his last ‘roommate’ left and took almost everything.

“Eventually we started dating or fucking around or whatever. So…”

“Well, which was it? Were you dating or fucking around?”

Dean frowns to himself. It was a damn good question, one he thought he knew the answer to until recently. “I don’t even know anymore, Cas. I told myself we were dating or ‘together’ or whatever. I mean, we didn’t go on actual dates but I didn’t know what else to call it.”

“Ah. Sorry for interrupting. Again. Go on.” Dean actually likes the fact that Cas keeps interrupting. It shows he’s listening.

“It’s alright. So anyway, I went home early from work a few nights ago to surprise him. Figured I’d be nice, make him dinner to celebrate our anniversary early since he said he had to work tonight. Instead he surprised me by having a strange guy in our bed.” It hurts to think about, to see Benny spread out on their bed while some asshole ten years his junior is fucking him. Then Cas asks him the oddest question.

“Strange like weird, or like a stranger?”

“Like a stranger, dumbass,” he says, with a sarcastic look to match.

“He could’ve been a weirdo,” Cas says defensively.

Dean remembers a little detail he thought was weird and huffs a tiny smile. “Well, he did have this tattoo of the Frosted Flakes tiger on his thigh…”

To Dean’s surprise, Cas breaks into peals of laughter. He says, “Tony the Tiger? Oh my God. Did he have Snap, Crackle and Pop on his ass?” It strikes Dean as so hilarious that he doubles over, laughing breathlessly and slapping the bar with his hand. He remembers the other tattoo he couldn’t help but see as the dude drilled into his boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend.

“Nah, he had that fuckin’ leprechaun on his ass,” Dean retorts in a terrible Irish accent. “Seriously! And he was, like, ‘Wha?’ with this stupid-ass look on his face at being caught,” Dean rasps, doing his best imitation of the dude’s slack-jawed look. It sends both of them into laughter again. God, it feels good.

Cas makes a joke about the dude telling his ex his dick was “magically delicious,” and Dean volleys with a joke about how it was his lucky charm (he thinks that’s the name of the cereal that leprechaun is from). They can’t stop laughing, and when Cas comments that those marshmallows are tiny and the guy must’ve been disappointed, Dean is laughing so hard he can’t breathe and his abs hurt. Finally settling down a bit, he wipes his eyes and takes another drink.

“Ah, shit. Shit, that was funny. Okay, so yeah, Tony the Tiger looks over at me with that dumb look, and he doesn’t even pull out of my boyfriend, just stares at me.”

He’s expecting some tut of sympathy, which he really doesn’t want, but all Cas says is, “Rude.” It’s perfect in its casual indignance.

Dean tells the stranger with the dark hair and bright eyes about the dude’s friendly “Hi!” and then tells him something he doesn’t mean to say. “So I can’t fuckin’ believe it because one, there’s another dude in my bed, and two, my fuckin’ asshole boyfriend never lets me top, always said I was too pretty or some shit and he couldn’t do it, and there he is all spread out.”

Dean begins to panic as soon as the words leave his mouth. Why the hell would he tell this guy the thing he’s most ashamed of, about not being allowed to top and being pushed into some subservient, weak role? He feels vulnerable and stupid. As he tries to think of some way not to look like a complete jackass, Cas speaks up.

“Too pretty? What’s that even mean? What a fuckin’ asshole. Pounding should be equal opportunity! He shouldn’t always be the pounder!” He says it with such conviction, waving his fist in the air, that it warms Dean and makes him forget how vulnerable he was feeling just a moment ago. He remembers that Cas came here looking for a “pounding,” and Dean can’t help but smile. To Cas, bottoming isn’t a weak thing to do. It hadn’t been to Dean, either, until Benny. He smiles and nods with more enthusiasm than he’s felt in days… maybe months.

“Exactly!” he continues, and is pleased that Cas is leaning in, listening with intense though hazy eyes. He continues animatedly, “So I just stare at him and say, ‘What the fuck?’ and the guy looks at me and says, ‘Oh, sorry, you didn’t know I was coming over tonight?’ Like this is a regular fuckin’ occurrence! Turns out he told the dude we have an open relationship which hey, guess what, was news to me. So I fuckin’ turn around, cool as a cucumber, and left. I’ve been staying in the little apartment above here until I figure shit out.”

Cas looks at him with bleary but sympathetic eyes. “Wow, that sucks. At least I didn’t see my ex in the middle of it.”

“Yeah, so see? We’re like brothers in arms, man. Been in the same war.” With the way his body and mind feels this week, it definitely seems like he’s been to war. He motions for Ellen, then clinks his bottle to Cas' when she brings the next round. They drink quietly for a while. It nice to spend a little bit of time not thinking and not alone.

Eventually, Cas mutters something that sounds like he’s ordering a burger. He’s wondering if the guy’s trying to order food to offset the alcohol.

“What?”

Castiel snickers slowly, with hazy eyes. “I was just thinking about how A.B. had to always be the pounder…”

 _Who the hell is that?_ “A.B.?”

“Asshole Boyfriend.” _Ah. Fitting_. “So I was thinking about the pounder thing, and how he must be a really insecure asshole because he wouldn’t switch with you when you clearly wanted to, and how that must mean he has a tiiiiny dick, like a quarter of what most guys have. Quarter-Pounder.”

“That’s weird, dude,” Dean says. The guy has a strange sense of humor, but Dean likes it. The more he repeats it to himself, the funnier it is, and he laughs despite how dumb it is. It reminds him of one of his favorite movies, one he can recite practically line for line. “You know what they call a Quarter-Pounder with cheese in Paris? They call it a Royale with cheese,” he slurs.

“A Royale with cheese. What do they call a Big Mac?” Dean is delighted that Cas caught the reference and even knows the response.

“Le Big Mac,” Dean screeches, and they both bury their faces in their arms as they laugh, peeking at each other as their laughter dies down and reigniting when they see each other’s faces. Dean sees Ellen coming and knows they’re in trouble, but he doesn’t care. He feels like something resembling himself.

“Okay, you two, you’re scaring the customers,” Ellen says. She tries to be gruff, but Dean knows better. She’s using her “you’re being dumb but I love you” voice. She takes Dean’s right arm and Cas’ left and leads them to a table in the back. She brings them two more beers, plus nachos to soak up the alcohol and water to hydrate them and hopefully help make their hangovers a little less painful later. She scolds them gently about behaving themselves and cuts off their alcohol.

“Thanks, Auntie El!” Dean shouts. He wants as many people to hear him as possible, just to annoy her. It works. Cas laughs and asks if she’s really his aunt. He doesn’t want to explain the whole thing, so he just tells him that she basically is. It seems enough for Cas.

As they eat, Dean thinks about the way this evening has gone. It’s not how he imagined it would go a week ago. Hell, it’s not how he imagined it a few hours ago. But here he is, having a good time despite this being a shitty time in his life right now, thanks to the hot guy across from him who’s apparently in the same boat. The incredibly hot guy who says he came here to have a one-night stand. Who wants it with him. Maybe. And why not? Dean’s done the whole hookup thing before, and the chance to top, for once… and Cas, well. He’d be crazy to turn him down. Dean smirks and leans toward the dark-haired man across the table. “So, did you really come here for a one-night stand?”

“Mmmhmm,” Cas answers around the chip in his mouth. “I mean I want another relationship eventually, but tonight I just came here looking for a good fuck. No strings, no awkward expectations, just a good time.” It’s a relief to hear those words. He’s not sure he could jump into another relationship. He probably shouldn’t, anyway, not until he learns to have a proper one.

“Fuckin’ right, man. That’s what I’m doin’ from now on. No muss, no fuss. I’m swearin’ off relationships. Too fuckin’ complicated, can’t trust anyone.” He takes another drink of his beer before eyeing Cas. Damn. He’s usually so confident with his hookups, but Cas makes him nervous in a tingly, floaty kind of way. Or maybe that’s the beer. Either way, time to regain control. Now that Cas has heard his fucked-up story, though, he probably won’t be interested in him anymore. Such is his luck. “So… you said you were trying to flirt with me? Want me in your bed for the night, Cas?” Dean asks with all the bravado he can muster.

Cas’ eyes rove blatantly over Dean, though Dean doesn’t miss the fact that those blue eyes ( _so blue, holy shit_ ) studied his own green eyes first. “Ohhhh yesss,” he purrs. “You’re no Quarter-Pounder, I can tell.” Dean throws his body back in a hearty laugh. The dude is some mix of serious, weird, and sexy. Definitely not his typical lay. When Dean stops laughing, he notices Cas watching him with a lazy smile. He leans forward on his elbow and tucks his chin into his hand, watching Cas in return with a grin that’s soft and genuine.

“Do you want to, Dean? With me?” Cas says after a few moments of staring. Dean can’t believe his luck. The guy still wants to hook up. Dean nods, throwing Cas a heated look, and they both throw some cash on the table to cover their bill and a tip. “Ah, shit,” Cas frowns as they stand up.

“What?” Dean asks, a bit confused. Did he not have enough money to cover the bill or something?

Cas sits back down, shoulders slumped. “We really should be tested first. I wanna be fucked so well I remember it, but I don’t want any _lasting_ reminders, you know? We were both cheated on, condoms break, et cetera, et cetera.”

Dean feels the disappointment deep in his bones. “Oh yeah. Well fuck, that sucks,” he says, the wind out of his sails as he plops back into the booth. “I was lookin' forward to it.” He doesn’t know why he feels so out of sorts. It’s just a hookup. They fall through all the time for one reason or another. Just his luck that he’d be totally into the guy, though.

“Me too. Guess I’m gonna have to buy a toy to use ‘til I can get the real thing.” He looks Dean up and down and smiles, and Dean isn’t sure he’s hearing this properly. _A toy? Until he can get the real thing?_

“You, uh, still want to?” he asks uncertainly. “Like, do the one-night stand thing? With me? After we’re tested?”

“Sure, why not? It’ll benefit both of us, hmm? Besides, I’d have the same problem with anyone else. At least you were honest.”

 _This guy is unreal_. “Won’t really help you tonight,” Dean notes.

“Meh, you know what? Talking with you took the edge off. Plus I’m probably too drunk to get it up anyway. And I’d rather remember it, especially with you, there, Green Eyes.” He winks slowly and points his finger like a gun at Dean, and the two of them giggle at Cas’ silly attempt at flirting.

He can’t believe it. He really can’t believe it. This hot guy not only wants to have a one-night stand with him, but he’s willing to _wait_ to have it. That just doesn’t happen to Dean. Maybe Lady Luck is offering him an apology. He looks at Cas, who’s watching him with warm, glassy eyes, and takes him by the hand. “Alright, my future one-night stand… to the sex store!”

“To the sex store!” Cas repeats loudly.

Walking out with six feet of tall, dark and handsome, Dean sends a message to Lady Luck: _I accept your apology._


	2. Chapter 2

The “sex store” down the street is open late on Fridays, and the clerk at the register looks up from his comic book when the two men stumble in, bumping into each other as they try to squeeze through the door together. They giggle (although Dean would never admit to giggling) and approach the counter, where an affable guy who identifies himself as Garth asks if he can help them.

Dean is still laughing about their conversation about the properties of dildos on their way over, so he says in a loud, TV-announcer voice, “My one-night stand here needs a dildo with _prostate stimulating action_!” He looks at Cas and punches his arm in the air several times and, like most of the night, they start laughing madly again. Dean had told him he needed “something that’ll hit the spot, like Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots!” It took Cas a minute to remember the boxing toy, but when he did, it was all either of them could do not to fall over in hysterics. Each time one of them would slow down and catch his breath, the other one would tell some joke or just punch a fist in the air, and they’d start all over again. The clerk takes it in stride. He’s probably had crazier, drunker people in his store.

“Okie dokie! And for you?” Garth asks as he points to Dean. He doesn’t answer Garth, just makes some smart-ass comment to Cas. Eventually the guy just shrugs and leads them toward the back.

Once they’re in the correct section, Dean tries to be helpful and brings Cas several options. He makes a joke about being the model for a particularly large option, but Cas, the smartass, tells him he’d better be ready to prove it when the time comes, so Dean puts it away. He’s not below average by any means, but he doesn’t think he’s ready to stand up to scrutiny, either. He leaves Cas alone to make his own selection.

Wandering around, he eventually finds the undergarments. Lingerie of all shapes and sizes is there, for both women and men. He looks at the men’s stuff for a while, but secretly he likes the women’s stuff better, and not just to look at. Years ago a hookup asked him to wear her underwear. They were pink and he liked the way they felt. He has a couple of pairs at home, but he’s never used them with another partner. He’s never had someone he wanted to be that vulnerable with. People in general misunderstand the desire for a guy to wear the stuff. He’s no less of a man, and he doesn’t feel less manly in them. He still likes to drink and work on cars and whatever else men are supposed to do. Still, if you’re a dude who likes to wear women’s underwear, you’d better be able to take whatever reaction you get. He’s not sure he’s one of those dudes who can take it. It feels nice, though. Not seeing anyone around, he pinches a pair of red ones between his fingers before slowly pulling them off the display table. He rubs the satin between his thumb and index finger. They’d probably feel great. Probably look nice, too. He holds them up to his hips and imagines himself filling them out, his dick barely contained and his ass cheeks peeking from the edges. He imagines showing them to a partner, someone he trusts. His eyes would widen in lust and eagerness, no judgment in his words or actions. He’d grip his partner’s hips as he rubbed his satin-restrained cock against the other man’s, driving him crazy before he pulls his cock out of the panties and slides into home…

“I think you should get these,” Cas’ voice rumbles behind him, startling Dean so much he turns around quickly and throws the underwear behind him (as if it wasn’t obvious). The pair he’s holding are pink and satiny with black trim on a delicate hanger. They’re gorgeous, but Dean is so embarrassed he doesn’t know where to look. His face is on fire; he’s trying to figure out how he can play this off as a joke, although given his reaction it’s probably too late for that. Cas continues on as if Dean isn’t melting from sheer humiliation on the spot. “Look. They zip right down the middle, front to back, and they have double zippers so you can unzip them completely or just one side or another. Convenient if you want to keep them on during sex.” Dean eyes him with a mix of wariness and hopefulness. Is the man joking? Is he making fun of him and he’s just too dumb or drunk to pick up on it? Or could he really be into this? He’s still trying to figure it out when Cas speaks again.

“I’m buying them for you,” Cas declares, and asks him his size. He has no idea what to say and stumbles over his words. “Well, what size are you usually? This isn’t the first time you buy these, is it?” Cas asks. Dean can hear himself stammering, but he can’t help it. He doesn’t want this guy to think less of him, and he’s not sure why it matters, but it does. He’s nearly shaking with nerves when Cas grips his shoulder and purrs, “You know, you would look fantastic pounding my ass in these panties.”

Dean closes his eyes and exhales slowly. His anxiety hisses out like a balloon losing air, replaced by the helium of acceptance that makes him float. _Fuck_. _Of course a total stranger I’ll only bang once would be into this._ “Extra large,” he whispers, and Cas hums, squeezing his shoulder once before snatching the right size and making his way to the counter to check out. Dean follows, still in awe of what just happened. Lady Luck is either a generous benefactor for letting him have this or a sadistic bitch for only giving him one night.

Garth asks them if they found what they wanted, and then says, “Gotta say, I would not have guessed you guys were just one-timers. Most people don’t put this much effort into a one-time thing.”

“Not doing it tonight,” Dean says, finally floating down to Earth. “Gotta wait ‘til the tests come back negative.”

“Yes. This is just to tide us over,” Cas explains further. Dean is relieved to hear he hasn’t changed his mind.

“Ohhh, so you’re _planning out_ the whole deal? Huh, never heard of that! Smart, though! $62.95, my friends,” he says, then accepts Cas’ credit card. Dean probably should’ve offered to pay. “Well, I hope it works out for y’all. You seem to get along real well.”

Purchases in hand, they stumble out of the store and walk back to the Roadhouse. On the way, they pass by the bar where Cas’ car is parked. He sighs and stops in the middle of the sidewalk, unlocking his phone and trying to call a cab.

“Don’t worry about it. You can stay with me,” Dean offers. He’s not sure where _that_ came from, but it feels right.

“That won’t count as our thing, though, right?” Cas asks.

Dean is confused for a second, then says, “No! No, no. We got plans for that another time. Tonight, you can stay on the couch and… yeah. ‘Kay?”

“’Kay,” Cas agrees.

They trudge up the stairs. Cas misses one of the narrow steps and nearly falls backwards; Dean catches him and helps him the rest of the way. Still drunk but a bit clearer, they fall into Dean’s tiny studio apartment that he’s borrowing from Ellen until he decides what the fuck he’s going to do now. It’s not much. He’s never brought anyone here when he’s stayed here off and on through the years, though it would have been convenient at times. He didn’t want to disrespect Ellen and, besides, it’s kind of crappy. There’s a kitchenette with a small sink, a microwave, and a stove and refrigerator in a yellow color that was popular way before Dean was born. There is a basic bathroom that Dean loves because of the shower’s water pressure. The living room has a lumpy couch that Dean and Sam, his brother, sat on when they were kids and it was in Ellen’s house. There’s a wicker coffee table with a glass top that’s seen better days and a rug that probably hasn’t been vacuumed in a while. A flat-screen TV that used to belong to Jo, Ellen’s daughter, sits above a microwave cart that holds an old VCR. Dean has no real bedroom, just a screen that separates the bed from the rest of the living room. There’s a small, worn dresser along the wall, just hidden by the screen. It’s embarrassing, even though Cas calls it cute.

Dean scoffs as he rolls his eyes. The guy probably lives somewhere way nicer, probably one of those McMansions. “It ain’t Buckingham Palace.”

“Most places aren’t.”

Dean looks at him sideways and sighs. The guy doesn’t seem bothered by his surroundings at all. “True, Cas, true,” he acknowledges. Dean scoots behind the screen to get his houseguest some sweatpants and a t-shirt. He tells him about the Tylenol in the medicine cabinet and lets him attend to his business. While Cas is busy, Dean finds some blankets in a chest in the closet. He lays them on the couch, along with a throw pillow since he doesn’t have any other pillows. He’d offer him his own pillow, but he’s using a throw pillow too, so it wouldn’t really matter.

“Sorry, man, it’s not much,” Dean apologizes when the man returns.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m grateful,” Cas says, sliding under the covers like he’s right at home. Maybe he does this a lot. That doesn’t seem right, though. Maybe he should ask. But it’s not really his business and who is he to judge, anyway? Cas interrupts his runaway train of thought. “I slept in a pile of leaves once. Trust me, this is great.”

Dean can’t help but smile. This guy seems like he’s all kinds of interesting. “I’d like to hear that story someday. Good night, Cas.”

“Night, Dean,” Cas murmurs sleepily. When Dean finishes up in the bathroom, Cas is asleep. His dark lashes flutter across his cheekbones and his lips are relaxed. He watches him sleep for a minute or two. He’s intriguing, Dean decides, not for the first time that night. He seems like Mr. All-American in his suit and his job (though he still doesn’t know what he does) and his six foot frame and his failed marriage. Yet there’s a depth to him that Dean can’t quite grasp. Maybe that’s just the alcohol talking. He sighs and shuffles off to sleep behind the screen, punching his flattened throw pillow into some sort of fluffy surrender. He drifts to sleep, thinking about nothing for the first time in several nights.

Dean’s always been an early riser, but he’s not sure if the guy on his couch is. Guy on his couch is named… Cas. Yes, that’s it. Dean wasn’t so intoxicated that he forgot the gist of his evening: he met Cas at the bar downstairs, they told each other their sob stories, they went to a sex shop… they made an agreement. Huh. He wonders if the light of day will change their minds.

Dean stretches and sighs. He should probably put some coffee on for his guest. He hopes to hell this isn’t awkward. Then it occurs to him that Cas might not even be here. Maybe he ran off during the night. Dean isn’t sure if that would be a relief or disappointing, but he’s leaning toward the latter. He peeks around the corner to check. He’s still there, and he is _flexible_. Damn.

“Hey there,” Dean says softly to get his attention without startling him. His voice is deeper than his usual baritone, not having been used for several hours. Cas looks up from some yoga pretzel and smiles so warmly, it’s like Dean stepped out into the sunshine. They greet each other and Cas agrees to coffee. Dean ambles into the kitchenette and scoops some coffee grounds into the machine to brew. Cas follows, sitting at the tiny two-person table. Dean frowns as he realizes he’s a shitty host. “Uh, so usually I like to make actual food, but I don’t have any actual food,” he says sheepishly. “I, uh, haven’t been all that concerned with eating. Eating equals downtime, and downtime equals thinking, you know?”

“I most certainly know,” Cas commiserates. “I was a mess for a while after the whole thing with my ex Daphne went down. I mean, we’d been having problems for a while but that? You just don’t expect somebody who’s told you they love you to betray you like that, even if you are having problems.”

“Yeah,” Dean says slowly. _Yeah, you sure as hell don’t. Except he never told you, did he?_ He’s quiet for a few moments, the memories stinging like a scab ripped off too soon. Without meaning to, he slams his mug down, the thoughts of his ex pissing him off. He admits to Cas that his ex never told him he loved him, and he never said it, either. “I kept waiting, but he never said it and I sure as hell wasn’t gonna say it if he didn’t. I just thought it was understood. Guess not. Probably should’ve been my first clue that things weren’t right between us.” He pours the coffee into mugs and carries them to the table, sliding one to Cas as he sits at the table with his own. Before the dark cloud can completely enshroud him, Cas speaks up.

“Did you love him?” Cas asks, taking Dean’s hand. Dean tries to comprehend why this man is being so kind to him, holding his hand in a way that isn’t possessive or jealous, but caring and comforting. Dean stares at their joined hands for a while, just drinking in the milk of human kindness, then meets Cas’ eyes. They’re shiny and bloodshot, like his probably are. It makes the blue irises stand out against the white and red field. They’re also accepting and receptive, so Dean keeps talking.

“Thought I did,” Dean murmurs finally. “But I dunno. I knew him from my workplace; he was a customer, good guy, one of those casual friends, you know? One day he told me he was in a tough spot with his bills ‘cause, like I think I told you, his roommate bailed on him and I just wanted to help him out, so I moved in. We got closer and, well, one thing led to another, you know? By then I found out the ‘roommate’ was really his ex-boyfriend and there was a reason the guy bailed, but I believed my boyfriend over this other guy. Seems pretty stupid now.” Dean huffs at himself. He thinks about how Sam tried to warn him against getting involved with Benny (and most of his other relationships, truth be told). “My brother says I don’t know the difference between being loved and being used. Don’t tell him, but he’s probably right.”

Cas, though he’ll likely never meet Sam, promises not to tell him all the same. It makes him trust the practical stranger all the more. He presses Dean’s hand and asks gently, “Have you had other relationships like that?”

Dean looks at the ceiling as he thinks. Has he? Of course he has. “Well, I had one where she mostly wanted me to help her take care of her kid, and another who just wanted me as ammunition against his family, like I was his sort of big gay ‘fuck you’ to them. I’ve had some messed up relationships. It’s why I usually don’t bother.”

“Well, not all people are like that, Dean, I promise. Some of us want long-lasting love with a partner who is our equal.”

Dean can only imagine there are people like that out there. He’s heard of them. He knows some of them, but they’ve never chosen him. Cas is one of them, apparently, which is no surprise; Dean’s one of them, too, though he’s never had it. But that’s not what he has with Cas. “Yeah… and some just want a good pounding,” he teases Cas, both to distract himself from his thoughts and to see if he can make Cas blush. He pulls Cas’ hand toward him and squeezes it affectionately when Cas does indeed blush and tries to pull away in embarrassment.

“Oh, God,” Cas mutters, hiding his face in his free hand as Dean cackles. _He’s too cute._ “That is so embarrassing now that I’m not drunk. And now I look like another asshole who was going to use you. God, I’m sorry, Dean.”

Dean doesn’t understand why Cas cares about using him. That’s kind of what a hookup is. “Hey, hey, shut up, will ya?” Dean says with humor. “It’s not the same thing. We both understand what we’re getting into and it’s a mutually beneficial thing, alright? Besides, you were a cute drunk.” Dean pauses, Cas’ words sinking in along with a little bit of anxiety. “Hey, wait, ‘was’ going to use me? Does this mean you’re having second thoughts?” he asks.

The corners of Cas’ mouth twitch up as he removes his hand from his face. “You still want to be my one-night stand?” he asks shyly, peeking at Dean through long lashes.

In his mind, Dean is gaping - why wouldn’t he want to spend the night with a hot, nice guy who listens to him and gets where he’s coming from? But he can’t say all that. “Absolutely. I mean, look at you. Who wouldn’t hit that?” he jokes with a twinkle in his eyes, ruffling Cas’ hair. It’s soft. He feels a spark of interest alight in his gut; he runs a finger down Cas’ face to his chin and presses into the cleft. Dean has one just like it, and many people have poked his in the same manner. Cas laughs and Dean laughs along with him before they just stop and watch each other.

“Your eyes are very green,” Cas comments to break the silence.

“Yours are very blue and bloodshot. You’re like a hungover American flag.” It was a dumb thing to say, but sometimes he says things without thinking. Cas tells him it makes no sense, which of course it doesn’t, but he laughs at himself anyway. Cas tells him his bloodshot eyes look like Christmas, which doesn’t make much more sense than his own statement. Still, he goes with it. The spark in his gut is flickering and he’s feeling like teasing the guy for teasing him about his dumb comment just a minute ago.

“Well ho ho ho, I’ve got a gift for you when our tests come back,” Dean leers. He thinks it’s clever, but Cas giggles at him. “What? You’re not making a guy feel good by laughing at him after some obvious sexual innuendo, Cas.”

“It’s my dick in a box!” Cas sings. Dean recognizes the tune from a _Saturday Night Live_ skit and howls. He always loved that one, and now that he’s been reminded of it he has to see it. He grabs his laptop off the nearby half-wall.

“Okay, we gotta watch that now,” he demands as he pulls up YouTube. Dean counters Cas’ “It’s not even close to Christmas, Dean” with “You brought it up, Cas,” and soon they’re singing along to the Christmas-themed boy band parody. They watch several more suggested clips (“Schweddy Balls” is another favorite) before Dean’s stomach growls.

“Well, like I said, I have no food,” Dean acknowledges as he closes up his computer, “but I know a diner that has awesome food. They have this breakfast burrito that’s the bomb.”

“Aren’t you a little old to say that?” Cas teases.

“Shut up,” Dean retorts with a playful shove. “You wanna go or not?”

They drive to the 50s-style restaurant in Dean’s Baby, a 1967 Chevrolet Impala. He sees Cas glide his hand over the fender and again over the dashboard with a little smile, and he bursts with pride. He restored this car from bumper to bumper and he loves it.

Cas seems to like the place, and Dean’s glad he’s not a pretentious ass now that the alcohol is out of his system. Dean orders the burrito and Cas the eggs Benedict, and they talk like they’re old friends. It’s easy with Cas, and even though their agreement is just for a quick one-time bang, it’s nice to know that he’s not an asshole all the same. He’s had enough of those, thanks. Cas listens and asks questions when Dean talks about his workplace, the garage he hopes to buy from Rufus when the old coot retires at the end of the year. He seems genuinely interested, even if he doesn’t know squat about cars. Dean’s not surprised to learn that Cas is a CPA at his own firm, but is surprised that it’s the one just down the street from his own workplace. Small world. They talk about their siblings and parents; Dean gushes about Sam, and he explains that his dad is a contractor and his mom is a librarian. Cas doesn’t say a lot, just that his brother is a DJ, his sister owns a club, and his parents are self-employed and traveling down south. When breakfast is over, Dean drives Cas to his car. After tossing his things in (Dean catches a glimpse of the dildo he slips safely into his briefcase and smiles to himself; Cas gave him his new underwear before they left the apartment and they’re safely tucked in a drawer), he turns to Dean. All of a sudden, this thing they have planned is front and center, the elephant in the room that they need to acknowledge.

“So, uh, the testing,” Dean says as he jangles his keys. “You wanna go together on Monday? There’s a clinic downtown. We could go during our lunch break.”

“Yes,” Cas replies without hesitation. Dean feels utterly relieved.

“Yeah? Awesome,” he grins. “I’ll, uh, meet you at your office at noon?”

“Sounds great, Dean.” They trade numbers and say hesitant goodbyes before Cas offers him a smile, then gets into his car and drives away. Dean waits until he’s turned the corner before he gets in his car and drives back to the apartment, which doesn’t seem quite as bleak as it did yesterday.

Several hours of sleep later (hell, he’s not as young as he used to be), his brother Sam calls. “Hey, so Dean,” he says cautiously, “I know you’re not really feeling up to it, but I don’t think you should wallow in that little apartment all day. Would you please come for dinner with me and Jess? We won’t even go out. Please?”

Dean knows his brother’s been worried about him the past few days. He should reassure him that he’s a bit better today. But that wouldn’t be brotherly of him, would it? “I don’t know, Sam,” he says, putting on a pathetic voice that’s been quite normal for him the last several days.

“We’ll make the stroganoff you like.”

“Mmm…” he hums with an exaggerated exhale.

“I promise not to give you crap about eating the salad.”

 _There it is_. “Ohhhh, alll right,” Dean agrees, not losing the little edge of sadness. He can hear the relieved sigh of his brother and feels a bit guilty.

“Okay, 6:30?”

“6:30. See you then.” He hangs up and grins despite himself. No matter how shitty his own life is, it’s always great to harass his brother.

After a thorough apartment cleaning and a shower, Dean heads over to Sam and Jess’ house. It’s a cute duplex that they’re slowly renovating for Sam and Dean’s grandmother, who will likely not be able to live on her own much longer with the Alzheimer’s. Jess greets him with her usual spunk and Sam greets him as if he’s going to break him if he speaks too loudly.

“Hey, Dean, how’re you doing?” he asks like a damn counselor.

“I’m fine, asshat, jeez. You can stop pussyfooting around me. I’m a big boy.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Sam relents, holding his hands up in surrender. “You’ve just been… cranky.”

“Cranky? Gee, I wonder why,” Dean snarks, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, leave him alone,” Jess chides her husband. “Look, he’s got a little life in those eyes again. That jackass won’t get him down. Besides, I heard some gossip that tells me maybe Dean found a way to forget.” She wiggles her eyebrows as she flashes Dean a smirk. “A very attractive way to forget.”

“Where’d you hear that?” Dean asks defensively, though there really is no need. He knows where she heard it. There are no secrets when he goes to the Roadhouse.

“You know where. So, let’s hear it,” she says as she hangs his jacket and leads him into the living room. “Sam, go finish making dinner. Dean and I need to chat.”

“What, and miss out? That’s not fair.”

Dean stops their argument before it can truly start. “There’s nothing to say. I met someone, we talked, we had breakfast this morning. That’s about it.”

Sam twists his mouth in disapproval, but Jess presses on. “Um, you forgot a whole overnight of details, Winchester. Was he good? Were you happy when you opened the ‘package’? What position…”

“You are way too curious about man-on-man sex, Jess,” Dean laughs as he pats her hand. “But seriously, didn’t happen. He slept on the couch.”

Both Jess and Sam shoot him incredulous looks. “You brought a guy home and didn’t have sex? Why? What was wrong with him?” Sam finally asks.

Dean should be insulted, he thinks. Sam treats him as if he just fucks around with any human with a pulse. It’s not _far_ from the truth, or it wasn’t for a long time. Despite that, though, he’d never really wanted that. He’s always wanted what Cas talked about - a long-lasting love with an equal. He thought he might have a chance at that with Lisa, and then again with Benny. There was Aaron, too, but he wasn’t as serious about him. They all ended up using him in one way or another. Everyone else has been hookups. It seems that Dean Winchester is good enough for a lay, but not good enough to stay. And if they do stay, he ends up screwed in more ways than one. But Cas treated him like an equal, treated him like he was worth listening to, worth waiting for, even though he’s a one-night stand (well, he will be, after the testing).

“There’s nothing wrong with him,” Dean states, defending the man he’s known less than 48 hours. “He’s great.”

“But you didn’t sleep with him?”

“Not ye... uh, no.”

“Not yet?” Jess asks, noticing how he cut himself off. “Are you guys gonna date or something?”

“Dean, shit, don’t just jump into another relationship…”

“I’m not, Sam!” Dean huffs. “We agreed to wait ‘til the tests come back, that’s all! Fuck, I can keep it in my pants one night!”

Sam and Jess’ twin looks of confusion make Dean realize he said more than he meant to. “You what?”

Dean sighs. “Look, we’re both coming out of shitty situations and we wanted to sleep together, but since we were both cheated on he thought it’d be a good idea to get tested, and I agreed. After that, we’ll fuck, and that’s that. It’s not a new relationship. Thanks for your vote of confidence, by the way.”

“I’m sorry, Dean, I just… you know your track record, and…”

“Aaaand thanks for the painful reminder,” Dean says as Sam’s wife smacks him on the arm.

“Dean, sweetie,” Jess says, smiling and calm, “are you saying you guys are getting STD testing, then having a one-night stand?”

“Uh… yeah?”

“Well, that is… interesting. Different. It’s very _responsible_ , actually,” she side-eyes her husband, “and, I don’t know. Maybe you need something different. Or someone different. You know?”

Dean nods. He knows.

“He sounds pretty cool to do something like that.”

Dean can’t help the smile that spreads across his face. “He is cool. He’s weird, but so funny. And he’s one of those people that actually listens to you, like you can tell he’s listening. And he’s smart, owns his own business. He’s actually the CPA just down the street from me. And he’s nice and just kinda gets me.” He shakes himself from the dreamy stupor he fell into and looks at his brother and sister-in-law, who are grinning at him. “What? He’s nice. I don’t meet too many of those kind of people.”

“And all you’re gonna do is fuck him,” Sam states bluntly.

“Well, yeah,” Dean shrugs. “That’s all we want out of this.”

“And you don’t want anything more.”

“ _No_ , Sam. We both just want a good, quick fuck to clear our heads. That’s it.”

“Huh,” Jess says, a little too innocently. “Well, that’s too bad. He sounds like a catch. Is he cute, at least?”

Dean smirks and leans in, as if confiding a secret. “He’s so fuckin’ hot, Jess. He has dark, messy sex hair and blue eyes you could fuckin’ drown in, and this little divot in his chin you can roll your tongue in, and his ass looked great even in suit pants, and fuck, he has this voice that would soak your panties…”

“Okay! I’m out!” Sam shouts as he throws up his hands and retreats to the kitchen, leaving Dean and Jess to cackle riotously at his expense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To learn about the rest of Cas’ weekend after they part ways in the morning, see chapter 2 of this story’s companion fic, “Just a One-Night Stand”: http://archiveofourown.org/works/13386972 
> 
> Referenced in this chapter:  
> “Dick in a Box” and “Schweddy Balls” skits from Saturday Night Live - if you haven’t seen these yet, look them up on YouTube. Funny stuff.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean hates Saabs, and this particular one is a pain in his ass. It needs a bunch of body work thanks to the 16-year-old driver who banged it up when he was texting instead of paying attention to the road, and the crinkled metal is giving him shit. The kid’s father has been giving him shit, too, wanting a rush job on something that they’re already squeezing into a tight schedule and something they really didn’t want to do in the first place. He only realizes the time when Jesse calls out to him to ask him if he wants to go to lunch. Dean takes his phone out of his pocket to look at the time. _Shit._

_To Cas 11:55am: Sorry, I’m going to be late. I’m behind on some work. Meet you as soon as I can._

_To Dean 11:57am: Not a problem. I’m very busy as well._

_To Cas 11:58am: Sorry. Do you want to reschedule?_

_To Dean 11:58am: No. ;)_

Dean laughs at the last text, and it gives him a little boost of confidence that had eroded a bit over the weekend.

_To Cas 12:00pm: Good to hear. ;) See you in a bit._

Dean finally leaves the garage just before 1:30, scarfing down a sandwich and a bag of chips he brought from home on the way. When he steps into Milton and Associates, Cas’ CPA firm, he’s surprised to see a familiar face greeting him from the reception desk.

“Jo! What the hell are you doing here?” he smiles, approaching her for a hug.

“I work here, dumbass,” she says as she lets go with a smile to match.

“I had no idea.”

“Clearly. So where the hell have you been, stranger?”

Jo is one of his closest friends, although to be truthful she’s more like a cousin or a sister. They grew up at each other’s houses, attended family events together, and went to the same schools. However, he hasn’t seen her in a few months. Since he took up with Benny, really. Seeing the genuine hurt behind her eyes, he feels guilty, but he doesn’t know what to say.

“Busy,” he shrugs. He perches on Jo’s desk.

“Lame,” she replies. “So… things are kaput with what’s-his-face?”

“Ugh, you know, too?”

“Of course I know. And I can’t say I’m disappointed about it.”

“Wow, tell me how you really feel.”

“He was an asshole to you.”

Dean flashes a fond smile at her. She has always been one of his fiercest supporters, no matter what kind of dumb shit he does.

“So what brings you by?”

Shit, he didn’t think he’d have to explain his presence to anyone. “Taxes,” he says. “Gotta couple of questions for Cas before I get stuff sent in.”

She raises her brow but he’s not sure why. “I figured that. I didn’t know you were one of Castiel’s clients.” She eyes him curiously.

“Uh, kind of new. Figured I should get my shit together if I’m gonna buy out Rufus.”

“Oh yeah, yeah. Makes sense.” _Thank God._ “Well, Castiel is great. He knows his stuff. Not bad on the eyes, either, Winchester.” He rolls his eyes and she laughs. “Probably not your type, though. He’s kind of, I don’t know, serious? Boring? I mean, he’s a nice guy, don’t get me wrong. I like him. He’s just a bit more of an angel than you’re used to.”

Dean snickers to himself. It seems he knows a side of her boss that she definitely doesn’t.

“Are you saying I’d corrupt your sweet, innocent boss?” he teases. Jo laughs brightly. Suddenly remembering she should be letting said boss know that Dean has arrived, she presses the intercom button and announces him. He starts giving Jo a hard time about her own tendency to corrupt others, making Jo laugh and deny the accusations just as Cas walks out of his office. He looks a bit worn around the edges, but still as attractive as Dean remembers from the weekend. Jo huffs at his rumpled appearance.

“Eat this, you idiot,” Jo says as she stands up from her desk and hands him a sandwich. “You’re not dropping dead on my watch. You were supposed to come out for this at 11:30.”

“Thank you,” he mumbles to Jo through a large bite. He smiles and wiggles his fingers to wave at Dean as he inhales the sandwich ravenously. Dean grins at him with mirth. He looks like he hasn’t eaten in years, and a grown man eating a sandwich shouldn’t be cute, but it is. Jo watches the interaction with interest.

“So hey, you didn’t tell me you know Dean!” Jo accuses as she swats Cas and looks at him expectantly. He looks between them and Dean knows he doesn’t know who Jo is to the bartender who saw them make fools of themselves on Friday night.

“Jo’s mother is Ellen, from the Roadhouse,” Dean explains, quickly widening his eyes. Cas widens his eyes subtly in response.

“Oh. Oh! Um, well, I do,” he shrugs, not giving Jo any additional information. He figures the man probably doesn’t give a lot of info to his employees about his extracurricular activities. Jo squints her eyes subtly, but Cas turns the tables on her with, “How do you know each other, Jo?”

“Dean’s my cousin. Well, not really, but we kind of grew up that way. Our parents are friends.”

Cas releases a little breath. “Oh, well, that’s great. I’m glad you could reconnect. Dean? Shall we?” Cas attempts to hurry out the door and Dean is eager to follow him, but Jo stops him. She looks suspiciously between the two men, and Dean knows that she suspects more to their story and isn’t satisfied with Cas’ quick brush-off.

“Wait! When are you going to be back? I don’t see anything in your calendar.”

“Shouldn’t be long.” They try to hurry out again, but she stops them once more.

“Wait! Don’t you want to bring your briefcase? Dean said he wanted to ask you a couple of questions before he files. Shouldn’t you bring his paperwork?”

“Yes, of course. What would I do without you?” Cas smiles at her. He runs into his office to get his briefcase. Just as he’s closing the door, he drops it and it pops open on the floor. Dean sees the contents - one item in particular - and panics, Cas’ wide eyes mirroring his own. Cas starts to lunge toward the floor, but Dean is closer and can block Jo’s view, so he dives onto the floor and covers the dildo Cas apparently forgot to take out of his briefcase from when he put it in there Saturday morning. His six foot plus body hides the evidence of Cas’ not-so-boring side, shielding it from Jo’s bewildered eyes.

“Here, let me get this stuff for you,” Dean says hastily as he gathers everything to his chest, keeping his back to Jo. He shoots Cas an urgent look. “Cas, you wanna open your office door there? You probably wanna put these things back neatly, huh?” Cas seems to get the message.

“Yes! Yes, certainly,” he says loudly, beckoning Dean inside. “We’ll be right out, Jo.”

Cas slams and locks the door behind him as Dean stands in the middle of the office, the edges of the box the dildo is in digging into his chest. Papers that he hopes aren’t important (or at least aren’t irreplaceable) are crumpled in his arms. It’s absolutely absurd, so when they look at each other they do the only thing they can think of: they laugh.

“Well I guess I know what you didn’t try this weekend, Cas,” he whispers so Jo can’t hear. He drops the papers and the toy on Cas’ desk.

“You don’t know that. Maybe I was so happy with the results I couldn’t be parted from it,” Cas says with a delivery so deadpan that Dean has to study him for a minute to see if he’s joking or not. When he sees a hint of crinkling around his eyes, Dean starts cackling in surprised delight. The guy is not nearly as serious as Jo seems to think.

“Wow, now I wanna try it,” he jokes.

“We could arrange that,” he comments nonchalantly, arching an eyebrow as he locks eyes with Dean. His groin responds very positively.

“Hmm… this toy, my panties, pounding… we’re going to have a lot to fit into one night.” Dean winks and Cas raises both brows in amusement and, Dean thinks, interest.

At the reminder of their future night together, Cas takes the initiative and leads them out of the office, tucking the toy into a pocket of his trench coat. Jo says goodbye to them, emphasizing the nickname Dean gave him. He feels a little self-conscious about being so casual about him in his workplace with his employee, but he seems okay with it so Dean doesn’t apologize.

“Nice cover story,” Cas says as they start the walk toward the clinic.

“Thanks. Best thing I could think of at the time,” he shrugs. “Actually, though, do you mind if I ask a couple of questions? I wanna get everything right when I take over the garage from Rufus.” Just as the words leave his mouth, he worries that this might be too much to ask of a one-night stand and bites his lip nervously. It’s not like they’re friends, and the poor guy probably gets hit up for free advice all the time. Before he can apologize, though, Cas agrees, and something about the openness of his expression tells Dean he’s sincere. They chat pleasantly for the rest of the walk and Dean gets some useful advice.

The clinic is quiet when they walk in, just a couple of young women sitting far apart, both on their phones. The nurse is amused and impressed about their plan for their eventual evening of sex, and praises them for making a thoughtful decision about safer sex. After counseling and blood work, they are released back into the temperate day.

As they approach Cas’ office, Dean isn’t sure what to do. Do they stay in touch while they’re waiting? Do they just wait for the results and contact each other when they come through? He has no road map to navigate this situation. “So, what now?” Dean asks, a bit hesitantly.

“Back to my drudgery, I suppose. I’ll probably be staring at documents until ten o’clock tonight. Tax Day is approaching quickly.”

Cas takes his question all wrong, and somehow it’s cute. Dean glances at him and smiles before staring at his feet as they walk, unsure how to address it. “Sorry. I meant now that we’ve done the testing.”

Cas looks surprised and embarrassed at his error. “Oh! Well, I guess we wait until we get our letters, and then we show each other, and, well, we have amazing sex.” He smiles cheekily at Dean, who returns his smile and nods absently.

“Okay, yeah, sounds good,” he says, then continues quickly, “Hey, did I show you those videos of the guy who trades faces with his kids when you were over on Saturday morning?” He knows he didn’t and he doesn’t know why he asked, except that maybe there’s a tiny part of him that wants a reason to continue the contact, even if just for today. Dean offers to text him the links later on, and Cas agrees. When he leaves Cas at his office to walk down to the garage, Dean is smiling.

As his day winds down, he sends Cas the videos he promised.

_To Cas 4:25pm: [2 videos]_

_To Dean 4:47pm: I’m shocked you can send videos on your ancient phone. Those are hilarious. It would be fun to have that kind of talent with video editing._

The snarky little shit won’t stop giving him grief about his phone. He grins and replies:

_To Cas 4:49pm: Stop making fun of my phone! It was very advanced for its time!_

_To Cas 4:50pm: My friend Charlie is a whiz at video editing. She’s a computer genius. That’s not even an exaggeration._

_To Dean 4:54pm: An enviable talent._

Cas asks him if he’s leaving work soon, and Dean finds out that Cas is going to be at his office until God knows when because of the looming tax deadlines. It’s a tough time of year for CPAs. Thinking of the lunch he forgot to come out of his office for earlier, Dean reminds him to eat something.

_To Cas 5:05pm: Oh yeah, you’re working. At least make sure you eat something._

_To Dean 5:10pm: Eventually, perhaps. Good night._

Looking down at Cas’ response, Dean frowns. Well, that won’t do. The guy needs to eat. The drunken conversation about having fun and Jo’s comments about him being boring roll around in his head until he decides to help Cas out - whether he wants the help or not.

Dean jumps into his car and drives a few streets away to a burger joint, where he picks up a couple of their best bacon cheeseburgers and two orders of fries that look like they should’ve stayed in the fryer a little longer but are salty as hell, which makes up for it. He drives to Cas’ office and parks in the visitor parking, then steps through the unlocked door into his office suite. Cas is concentrating on his computer and a bunch of papers spread in front of him. Somehow, he knows the man hasn’t eaten since that paltry sandwich hours ago. A coffee cup is the only evidence that he’s done anything beyond stare at his computer screen.

Now that he’s standing in Cas’ doorway, though, he’s not sure how to explain why he felt compelled to buy the man dinner. It seems a bit too intimate for what they are. He says the first thing he can think of. “Okay, so sex with you ain’t gonna be fun if you’re a corpse. You’ve gotta eat.” Dean meant for his words to be jocular or gruff, but they come out as a gentle teasing instead. Cas, taken aback for only a moment, smiles and goes with it.

“What, you’re not into that?” he jokes with a wink.

“Your wink is much better when you’re not drunk off your ass. Your jokes, not so much,” Dean teases back, and it feels like they’ve found an equilibrium. He sets up their meals on the small, round meeting table in Cas’ office as Cas comes around his desk and settles into one of the cloth-covered seats. When Cas bites his burger and settles into the chair with a pleased sigh, Dean knows he made the right decision. They talk about little things, like the strangest things people ever tried to claim on their taxes and the damn 2009 Saab that gave Dean homicidal feelings that morning. It’s easy and pleasant, despite barely knowing each other. Maybe going through STD testing with someone makes other things easier.

As Cas is walking him out, he thanks him and acknowledges that he doesn’t usually take time to eat when he’s busy. Dean notices they spent an hour eating and talking and he begins to feel guilty. He’s just a quick fuck to this guy. He doesn’t feel worthy of taking up an hour of his work time that now Cas will probably have to make up.

“Well, thanks for putting up with me,” Dean jokes. Cas scrutinizes him for a moment, those blue eyes gazing at him much too deeply for Dean’s comfort, before he squints playfully and tilts his head to the side, folding his arms and smirking at him.

“Are you mixing up ‘putting out’ with ‘putting up’ again?” Cas jests. “Because I’m not ‘putting up’ with you. I enjoy you. But I will be putting out for you.”

Feelings of acceptance and relief flood Dean’s nerves and his grin is automatic. “I think you just enjoy my smokin’ body.”

“Well, I _plan_ to enjoy that,” Cas smirks as he leans up against the doorframe. “But for now I’ll have to settle for your kindness, compassion, and sense of humor. Woe is me.”

A giddy self-consciousness spreads through him, and Dean knows he must be blushing, a habit he hates. He chuckles to try to wriggle off the tingly feeling and tucks his hands into his pockets. They bid each other good night, and Dean wonders if this will be the last time he sees Cas until they receive their results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For an example of the video to which Dean refers (Queen Baby: Food Critic), go to https://youtu.be/5xR3BCmGveU


	4. Chapter 4

Dean had been worried about what would happen after their testing and Dean bringing Cas supper. Would he freak out? Would there be silence between them until the results were returned? He receives his answer in the form of a text message the very next day:

_To Dean 11:45am: May I bring you lunch as a thank you for your generosity and thoughtfulness last night?_

Dean hesitates. He wants to say yes, but he doesn’t want Cas to feel beholden to him.

_To Cas 11:47am: You don’t have to do that._

_To Dean 11:48am: I know, but I would like to. Besides, Jo has informed me that I cannot return to the office until I eat lunch._

_To Cas 11:50am: Well, then, by all means, come on over._

After that, it becomes their thing. For nearly two weeks the future sexual partners trade text messages. Sometimes Dean brings Cas supper when he’s working late. Sometimes they bring each other lunch. He’s eating grilled cheese sandwiches on the lumpy couch in his (hopefully) temporary living room when he gets a call from Cas, which is odd since they usually text.

“Have you checked your mail for your test results?” he asks.

Dean mutes the TV. “Nah, not yet,” he says as he finishes chewing. “Had the results sent to my brother’s.”

“Let me know when you have a chance to get over there. I got mine.”

“And?”

“Clean,” Cas announces happily. Dean receives a photo of a smiling Cas next to his all-negative test results. Dean feels himself grinning stupidly at the picture of the man in the fitted t-shirt that shows off the muscular arms he hasn’t seen before. He licks his lips and feels the familiar pull of desire. Soon, he’ll have his hands all over that body.

“That’s awesome, Cas! I’ll go check my mail tomorrow!” Dean replies. They chat for a couple of minutes before hanging up. Dean sets his alarm a little earlier than usual so he can get to his brother’s before going to work.

It’s raining the next morning but Dean is so happy he’s making his own sunshine in the dark apartment. He hums as he scrambles eggs and cheese together, making a stringy monstrosity of oily goodness. Jamming the food in his mouth hurriedly, he then dresses and heads out.

“Hey, Sammy,” he says quietly when Sam opens the door. Jess is still sleeping. Sam invites him in and hands him an envelope. “Ah, my ticket to ride,” he says with a bawdy wink and a rotation of his hips. His brother groans and shoves him. He tears it open, expecting to see the typical form letter, and frowns when he doesn’t.

“What’s the matter?” Sam asks.

“Says I have to call for results,” Dean murmurs as he reads through the letter again. There’s not much to read.

“Well, that’s not uncommon,” Sam comments. “They don’t usually like to give you results of that stuff in a letter, do they?”

“Cas got his in his letter,” Dean says, still frowning. He drops Cas a quick text letting him know he has to call for his results.

It’s an anxious wait and he decides to use a couple of hours of his paid time off from work to wait at home. He’s sure it’s nothing, but wonders why he needs to call. _Probably because of all the partners you’ve had, you douche. They probably want to give you the lecture._

The clinic opens at 8:30 am, and he calls right away. He leaves a message for a nurse to call him back, and she calls around 9:15.

“Mr. Winchester, the results of your testing indicate that you have gonorrhea,” she says in a professional but not unkind tone. It doesn’t matter what tone she uses, though, because he can’t hear another word through the roaring in his ears.

_No! No no no!_

“Mr. Winchester, are you there?”

“Yes,” he rasps eventually as his senses start to return. “Yes, I’m here.”

“We’re going to call in a prescription for you. What is your preferred pharmacy?”

He doesn’t hear her question, instead asking one of his own. “How? How do I have this? I don’t feel sick and we always used condoms.”

“Many people are asymptomatic, Mr. Winchester. As for the transmission of the illness, did you ever have unprotected oral sex?”

 _Shit_. “Uh, yeah.”

“That’s probably it, then, or perhaps a condom broke without you realizing.”

Dean feels himself starting to hyperventilate. _This can’t be fucking happening to me. Why am I being punished?_

“Mr. Winchester, please calm down. Breathe slowly.”

He follows her instructions. She says, “Gonorrhea is treatable with antibiotics. Please make sure you finish the medications, even if you’re feeling better or not showing symptoms. Avoid unprotected sex, and inform your previous sexual partners so they can be tested.”

_Fuck. Fuck!_

“Okay, thanks.” She asks him about his pharmacy again, and he answers her before hanging up. He clenches his hands into fists and screams, the anger sitting like cement in his gut. “You fucking asshole, Benny! You fucking, fucking asshole!” He paces the tiny apartment, knocking things over in his frustration as he goes. He remembers the man’s smiling face and mask of pleasure as Dean sucked him down, time and time again. _He was infected the whole time. What the fuck?_

Dean runs his fingers through his hair. His eyes settle on his phone. Cas is expecting a text from him. He doesn’t know what to say, so he says the only two words he can think of:

_To Cas 9:25am: Fucking asshole_

His phone is still in his hand when Cas calls him.

“Dean?” Cas says, and just that one word, released from his mouth as gently as one releases a butterfly, circumvents the anger and touches the deep grief and shame Dean is carrying. He sobs for several minutes, fluids draining from his eyes and nose, and all the while Cas simply listens and murmurs assurances, even though he doesn’t know what he’s assuring him of. Dean is ashamed, so ashamed, and he hates that he has to admit this horrible, dirty thing to this wonderful man.

“He gave me a fucking STD, Cas!” Dean finally chokes out. “God, what the fuck!”

“Okay, Dean, okay,” Cas soothes, not seeming shocked or disgusted as Dean expects. “Are you at home? At the Roadhouse?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean says between hiccupped breaths. The pressure on his chest is so heavy; he feels his lungs being squeezed until he thinks he might suffocate.

“Okay, I’ll be right over,” Cas tells him before hanging up. Dean’s anxious mind doesn’t have time to tell him he doesn’t have to come over, nor does it want to. He texts Jesse to ask him to let Rufus know he won’t be in at all, then sits back and waits.

When he hears the knock at his door, the fear of Cas’ reaction to this news nearly paralyzes him, but he forces himself to drag his feet to the door and open it. Cas gathers him into his arms immediately, smoothing down his hair as he sways him back and forth. Dean sinks into the embrace, his weakened body and soul winning over the exhausted but insistent part of his brain that says he brought this on himself and doesn’t deserve to be comforted. When they finally part, Cas sits him down and brings him a glass of water, then sits next to him, their knees touching in another comforting gesture. Dean swallows the water harshly and places the glass on the coffee table. He takes a few deep breaths and steels himself for the conversation.

“Gonorrhea,” Dean starts, proud of himself that he’s speaking without sobbing. “Even the name sounds gross. They said I probably got it during oral ‘cause I made him use condoms for anal. Fuck, I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, Dean,” Cas growls. “You believed you were in a monogamous relationship.”

“Then I’m stupid for believing that.”

“You had no reason not to. You were living together, he never told you that he had other partners, and you knew you didn’t have any. If I was in your shoes, I would’ve believed I was in a monogamous relationship, too.”

Dean tries to argue, but Cas won’t allow it. He takes Dean’s hand in his.

“Dean, we can’t constantly expect that others will betray us. If we believed that we would be in a constant state of paranoia, which is unhealthy. Besides, most of the time it’s simply not true. Most people are not out to harm us. That’s why it’s so shocking when people do, because most of the time people don’t, at least not intentionally.”

Dean squeezes his hand as a fresh wave of tears erupts from his eyes. The guilt is overwhelming. He feels horrible for involving Cas in his screwed-up life. “I’m sorry for roping you into this fucked-up mess,” he sobs.

“You didn’t. I’m here willingly. And hey, gonorrhea can be treated with antibiotics, right?” Cas says as casually as if he’s talking about picking up an extra gallon of milk.

Dean sniffs. “Yeah.”

“Okay, so in ten days, after you’re done your meds, get another test. I can get another one, too, if it'll make you feel better. When everything comes back clean, we’ll be right back to our plan. Okay?” He reaches his free hand to Dean’s face and gently turns it toward him. _Dear God, how did this man come into my life?_ “Okay?” Cas asks again. Dean looks into Cas’ soft gaze.

“Yeah?” Dean replies, a tiny, hopeful smile curving his lips as Cas nods. He leans into Cas’ palm, feeling its warmth inside and out. “You’re the most laid-back future one-night stand I’ve ever met, Cas,” he jokes, even though it’s true.

“You can thank me when I’m laying back for you in a few weeks,” Cas winks. Dean huffs in amusement. _He’s such a weirdo._ For the first time since opening that letter, Dean feels a bright, genuine smile on his face.

Cas accompanies Dean to the pharmacy to pick up his meds. Dean is silently grateful that the meds are just average antibiotics and don’t scream “Gonorrhea!” for all to see. He holds the door open for Cas as they’re leaving the pharmacy, but stops short in the foyer. “Fuck, I’ve gotta call him, don’t I?” Cold dread fills his stomach and he feels like he’s going to vomit. Cas says he needs to and he knows this, but he really doesn’t want to.

“I can sit in the room with you while you call him, if you want.” Dean looks at Cas and sees nervous sincerity staring back at him. The dread in his belly abates just a bit, knowing he’ll have some support.

“You don’t mind?”

“Of course not.”

Dean gulps and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, that would be great.”

Back at his tiny apartment, soaked and shivering from the rain and nervousness, Dean finds them a couple of ratty towels and they dry off. He sits and stares at the phone in his hand. “Fuck, I really don't want to do this.”

Seated next to him, a warm comfort, Cas says softly, “Rip off the Band-Aid, Dean, that's all you can do.”

Dean finds Benny’s contact and dials, and the voice that used to fill his days and nights answers.

“Dean! Darlin', where've you been?” Benny asks. Dean’s stomach turns. Benny is acting so casual. It’s his go-to attitude, an indifference coated in charm that, in person, is usually accompanied by thick hands resting on Dean’s hips or feeling him up. Dean had often been lured out of his anger by this charm after many of their fights, but he’s too angry and too far away for the charm to work this time.

“You gave me a fucking STD, Benny,” Dean growls.

“What? Can't be me, darlin'. I don't have anything.” Dean is stunned by the man’s blasé denial.

“It was you,” he utters through clenched teeth. “Couldn't have been anyone else. You probably just don't have symptoms. I didn't.”

“Aw, baby, everything's fine. I forgive you. Come home.” _What?_

“Forgive me?”

“I know you were upset when you left and you probably went out and got with someone. It's okay. I'm willing to overlook it on account of you being upset at our misunderstanding. Just get some medicine and take care of it, alright? Everything will be fine.”

Dean feels himself shaking as he says, “Kiss my ass, Benny.”

“I'm gonna fuck that sweet ass as soon as you get it back home,” he drawls. Dean drops his head in shame. This is always the way it goes with them: They fight, Dean is somehow always wrong even when he knows he isn’t, Benny lures him in with attention and the promise of acceptance and reconnection, and Dean gives in because he hates rejection and disappointing others. He can’t blame anyone but himself for this mess. He presses his lips together tightly to prevent himself from crying. He looks up at Cas, expecting pity or disgust in the man’s eyes, and is surprised to see anger. Cas shoots a scornful look at Dean’s phone, then reaches over and squeezes Dean’s fingers in support. Dean realizes, for the first time, that maybe he’s not to blame here. He trusts Cas’ judgment, despite how short a time he’s known him, and Cas has been through betrayal too. If Cas is angry, maybe there’s good reason. The cold dread that filled him before is replaced with fire.

“Yeah, no thanks,” Dean comments. “My sweet ass isn't for you anymore. We're done.” Dean smiles up at Cas, and Cas throws up a fist in victory and then gives the phone the middle finger. Dean laughs silently. He feels a little spark of something he used to have in himself: pride. They busy themselves with making faces and rude gestures at Dean’s phone until his ex finally gets Dean’s attention again.

“Yeah, well, you still live here, so you owe me your half of the bills,” Benny growls. Dean frowns. He’s not technically moved out yet. Cas mouths, “Name on lease?” to which Dean shakes his head and Cas shrugs with his shoulders and hands. Dean gets what he’s saying.

“Technically, I don't live there,” Dean says with the most annoying voice he can muster. “So nope, I owe you nothing. I'll stop by while you’re out to pick up my shit.”

“We're not done here, baby,” Benny warns.

“We are. Tell your partners to get tested,” Dean says with more confidence than he feels before punching off. Dean slaps Cas’ hand in a high five as they smile at each other.

“Thanks, Cas,” he says sincerely. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“I think you could have,” Cas says with way more faith in him than Dean has in himself. “But I’m glad to help.”

Dean looks at the time and frowns. “Don’t you have to be at work?”

“Nope,” Cas says as he sits back on the couch, hands behind his head. “Lunch?”

Dean and Cas spend the day eating carton after carton of Chinese food and watching _Friends_ reruns. When Cas leaves, Dean feels pretty good. He plans to kick back with a book or a movie and forget the asshole that made his day so awful, focusing instead on the good things: Meds that will take care of the problem. A supportive workplace that didn’t bat an eyelash at him calling out. A place to live rent-free. Cas.

His plan is ruined when Benny calls. And calls. And calls. He doesn’t pick up the phone, but the man leaves long messages that Dean feels compelled to listen to while he drinks the six-pack of beer in his fridge. They start as angry, but soon get sweet and sappy, reminding Dean of what they shared together: bitching about their jobs, movies and poker and watching whatever game was on, and of course, sex. Benny wasn’t very demonstrative outside of the apartment and didn’t talk about his feelings, but sex was when Dean felt that connection with the man, when they both raced toward that high and Benny called him his baby and praised him for taking his dick so well. Doubt creeps in, and he wonders whether he’s blowing this whole thing out of proportion. Everyone makes mistakes, and maybe Benny really did believe they had an open relationship because they didn’t express their feelings and because they never explicitly talked about their relationship when they started fucking. He wonders what drove Benny to another man in the first place, and whether he could’ve done anything else to make things better in their relationship, to make him want to love him, to make him want to stay with him exclusively. He wonders why everyone uses him and how fucked up he has to be to attract those kind of people. When the beer is gone and the calls finally stop, Dean collapses into the tiny bed in the tiny space in his tiny life. Dean has fitful sleep and terrible dreams.

On Saturday morning, Dean awakens feeling shitty and stupid. Last night he was lured in by Benny’s charms, but as it usually did, the light of day showed him a more realistic picture. Benny fucked around and gave him an STD. Benny was in their bed being fucked by this guy, something he wouldn’t do with Dean. Benny is manipulative and has used Dean from the beginning in the guise of friendship and love. Dean hates him. _Hates him_. So why is there a part of him that still feels conflicted about everything?

Without much thought, he texts the only person he thinks will understand.

_To Cas 9:25am: I fucking hate him so much_

_To Dean 9:28am: I know. I would, too._

_To Cas 9:30am: I hate myself more because there's a part of me that maybe still has feelings for him. Why? It’s so fucked up_

_To Dean 9:31am: Can I call you?_

Dean stares at his phone for a couple of minutes. _Why does he want to call?_ He’s probably going to tell him how stupid he’s being, and maybe he’ll want to end their agreement. It would serve Dean right for dragging him into this.

_To Cas 9:33am: Sure._

“Let me tell you a story,” Cas says gently by way of greeting. Dean agrees, and Cas plunges into the story of his relationship with his ex-wife, from when they met, to the early times, to the downward spiral. He tells him about how things were good at first, and about how she seemed like just the sort of calm, stable, “normal” person he thought he wanted to balance out the sense of “weirdness” he’d felt about himself for several years. He tells him about how, as their relationship grew and he matured past the insecurities of his youth, he thought he could maybe be himself with her, weirdness and all, and how things changed after that. He tells him about her dislike of his family’s “influence” and about her insecurity regarding Cas' bisexuality He explains her insistence that they not do anything even remotely “wild” or unconventional, how she wanted him to be steady and predictable, a good soldier who went to work and came home and didn't try anything out of the ordinary in the bedroom or outside of it. Cas admits he subjugated himself to her fears and grew farther away from himself and from his family. Then, Cas explains the leftover feelings about the relationship that he had after he learned of her betrayal: regret, wistfulness, doubt. He explains that he eventually learned he wasn’t having those feelings because he still loved her — because in reality they had grown far apart — but because he is a loving person, a person who wanted to make sure he'd done everything in his power to save the relationship he’d vowed to uphold, and he felt like he failed to do that.

Dean feels himself relaxing into his mattress as Cas talks, because everything he’s saying makes perfect sense. Dean has always had a deep well of emotions, and his commitment to others once he gives himself to them is without parallel. To be rejected or used by someone else feels like a failure, like he hasn’t done enough. He sees it as a flaw about himself and not about the other person or about whatever’s between them. Cas helps him see that the feelings about Benny maybe aren’t because he loves Benny -- because, as he thinks about it, he’s not sure he ever really did after all -- but because he feels like he failed his own standards.

Trusting that Cas will understand, Dean opens up about his relationship with Benny. He tells him about how they started as roommates, and how in a short amount of time they got into having sex, Dean bottoming because Benny told him he was “too precious” or “too pretty” to “do all the work.” He admits how quickly he got absorbed by Benny, how he loved the praise and attention the man gave him in the beginning. He even called Dean his “little savior,” and though Dean didn’t like being extolled to that degree, he admits it gave him a good feeling to help someone and to be appreciated. Dean then shares with Cas that, after just a few blissful weeks in which Dean was happy helping out such an attentive boyfriend who worked so hard that he wasn’t home all that much, he started to feel less like a hero and more like Cinderella. Benny paid less and less attention to him, but didn’t want him to go out with his friends or family because he wanted him home “so we can spend what precious time we do have together,” and since Benny’s shifts were often odd and he could get home at any time, Dean acquiesced. Dean explains sheepishly to Cas that when he tried to advocate for himself - to suggest they share chores or to request they switch during sex - he was shot down by one of Benny’s many excuses.

“He was more than happy to have me live with him and pay bills and do chores and bottom, but anything else was just a fight,” Dean finishes. He huffs before slowly releasing a breath. “I was so stupid, Cas. I thought he wasn’t paying attention to me and demanding all this stuff because he was working so hard, but you know what? If I’d been important to him, he would’ve made time for me. We could’ve had lunch together or he could’ve taken a Friday or Saturday night off work once in a while, at least, but he said he couldn’t. Managed to make time for Tony the Tiger, though.” Dean glides his fingers through his sandy hair. Cas, who’s been listening and interrupting with the occasional grunt or hum of acknowledgement, finally speaks.

“Hey, Dean? I think I should tell you something,” Cas says hesitantly.

Dean figures that now will be the time when Cas announces he wants to end their agreement, but what can he do? “Okay. What?”

“I don’t know how to tell you this delicately, so please forgive my bluntness.” Dean cringes, preparing for Cas’ words as if he’s preparing for someone to punch him in the gut. He’s not far off. “I know A.B…. uh, Benny. No, fuck it, A.B. It’s all he deserves.”

“You know him?”

“Uh, yeah. I recognized his voice on the phone yesterday, and when you said his name, well… anyway. Um, you know my sister Anna runs Nightingale, the nightclub I told you about?” Dean acknowledges this so Cas continues, “Well, he’s… got a bit of a reputation there. He’s pretty much known for being a sleazebag who will hit on anything that moves.”

Dean shakes his head and rubs his eyes. “Great.”

“That’s… not all. Sometimes on Fridays and Saturdays I bartend or whatever Anna needs help with, just because she’s still trying to get the club off the ground. On many occasions, he’s hit on me. He is extremely persistent. Nothing ever happened between us and nothing ever would, I promise you. I’m so sorry, Dean.”

Dean is horrified, as his ex always told him that he was working late on Friday and Saturday nights (and sometimes Thursday and Sunday nights, too) and Dean never questioned it. Now he sees those nights - and their entire relationship - in a new light.

“He, uh, has a nickname at the club,” Cas adds. “It's, uh, V.D.”

“As in Venereal Disease?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Fuck,” Dean says, but he's laughing, albeit humorlessly. “Figures.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Nope. You know what? I’ve been thinking that I was at fault for what happened, but you know? I'm feeling all that doubt about my faults in the relationship fading away,” Dean says, even though his voice is tight with tears and the feeling of betrayal. “Fuck him.”

“Fuck him, Dean,” Cas says. Dean feels the solidarity in their words. Cas is on his side, and it feels good to have at least one person in his corner.

After a couple of movies and a nap, Dean is awakened by a knock at his door. _Great_ , he thinks to himself, looking down at his too-short sweatpants and t-shirt that he stained with salsa earlier. _Not lookin’ my best for company._ He groans internally when he sees it’s Cas, looking perfectly put-together even if his white clothes look a little worn.

“Do you trust me, one person who’s been screwed over by a partner to another, to surprise you with something I think will help?” Cas asks seriously. Dean stares at him for a moment, not knowing how to respond. “You can say no and I won’t be offended. You have the choice,” he smiles gently. _Choice_ , Dean thinks. _Respect for my opinion and decision. Damn._ Dean nods.

“I’m game,” he says. He probably shouldn’t trust someone he’s only known for a short time, but he trusts Cas.

“Sure you don’t mind surprises?”

Dean stops himself from thinking about Benny. “Not if they’re good ones.”

“Okay. Great. I really do think you’ll like this. I hope so,” he says. He glances shyly at his feet, which makes Dean grin. “May I come in? I come bearing supper.” He reaches to his side and pulls out a bag, and Dean opens the door wide for him with a smile he can’t seem to repress around the guy. Cas thanks him and enters, handing him the bag, which has what looks like salads and some homemade bread. Dean sets the items out on the tiny table while Cas texts with someone. Cas smiles at his phone, then puts it away and looks up at Dean. “Okay, so I’d like to take you to Anna's tonight,” Cas says. “I just texted Jo, and she is going to gather a bunch of your friends, and you are going to have a good time with your friends tonight like you deserve.” He pats Dean on the chest, then seats himself at the small table. “You'll need clothes and shoes you don't mind getting dirty, white if you have them. We'll take my car. I already have trash bags on the seats.”

“What the fuck are we doing?” Dean asks curiously.

“You'll see. Let's eat and then you can change.”

As they eat the steak salads Cas made, Dean sits thoughtfully, staring at Cas every so often and then turning away quickly. He finally works up the courage to ask, “Um, hey, so you said Benny goes there most weekends? What if he shows up there tonight?” Dean watches Cas carefully as he thinks.

“Well, we can play it one of two ways,” Cas offers. “You can go and let him see you having a good time with your friends, or if you think he'll stay put, you can text him and tell him you're going to swing by later and make him wait at the apartment all night.” Cas grins devilishly, and Dean thinks it’s an excellent look on him. He feels himself brighten with the idea of a little bit of revenge on Benny.

“Think I'll go with the second one. I don't want him to ruin my night, but I’d sure as hell like to ruin his.” They grin at each other.

When they arrive at Nightingale, they bypass the long line in the front and enter through the side entrance. He takes in the funky decor and the employees buzzing around. A short time later, Cas gets a text message and tells him that his friends have arrived. Dean expects Jo and maybe Charlie, but is excited to see not just them but Max, Sarah, Sam, and Jess. He hadn’t really talked much with anyone but Sam and Jess lately, and it feels so good to see them all. Hugging and kissing each one of them, he feels the hole left by their absence slowly start to fill. After making introductions, another group comes in and Cas introduces them to his sister Anna, his brother Gabe, and his friends Hannah, Zeke, and Zar. Cas’ siblings and Zar call him C.J., which is news to Dean, but he goes with it. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean sees Gabe watching him appraisingly. Everyone else seems comfortable with each other almost immediately, helping Dean feel settled and calmer than he’s felt in some time. As Anna and Gabe hand out squeezable paint bottles, Cas explains that they are attending a Paint Party, which as Dean understands it is basically adults drinking and throwing paint at each other to dance tunes. Dean’s not sure how much he’ll like something like this (and he’s happy as a pig in mud that they took Cas’ car if they’re going to be covered in paint), but Cas made a huge effort to arrange a great night for Dean and he can’t help but smile at Cas’ thoughtfulness.

Gabe is the DJ, and his freewheeling, enthusiastic, bawdy behavior is perfect for the evening. He explains how the evening will go before he turns up the dance mix and blasts people with paint. The crowd responds enthusiastically, and it seems everyone is ready to let loose.

Dean's friends are getting along famously with Cas' friends as they drink and spray each other and strangers with neon paint colors. Dean hasn’t felt this carefree in months, maybe years. Charlie and Jo wrap themselves around him as they dance, making him the filling in their sandwich. Max reminds him of some dumb dance moves they did when they were young and stupid and liked to go clubbing on a regular basis. Sarah makes friends with a bunch of guys nearby, who join them. Dean gets lost in the music and the feeling of freedom and of being in the moment. He missed his friends so much. His group is so much fun that others are drawn to them, and Dean is flirted with by just about everyone, women and men alike. It’s a great feeling to be so desired yet so safe all at once. He’s with his friends, having a great time, and he doesn’t feel any pressure to be anyone else or do anything else. His smiles at those around him are genuine, bubbling up from a place deep inside him that he didn’t know existed, a hidden oasis in the desert of his recent life choices. Song after song plays, and the paint dries and pulls on his skin, but Dean is happy. He wants to thank Cas for this, to pull him close, to… well, he can’t have _that_. Why is he even thinking about that, fresh off a breakup? That’s not even part of their agreement. So no, he can’t have that, but he can at least thank him. Opening his eyes, he looks around to do just that… only Cas isn’t there.

“Where’s Cas?” Dean asks the group, but no one seems to know.

“Speaking of Cas, though, you need to tell us what’s up!” Charlie encourages him as she drags him off the dance floor for more drinks, their friends following.

“Yeah, ‘cause Sam and Jess won’t tell us,” Max says with playful scorn as he looks their way.

“Come on, what’s really the deal with you and Castiel? Oh, sorry, _Cas_?” Jo asks as they wait for the shots they’ve ordered.

“Uh,” Dean stammers, suddenly uncomfortable because they hadn’t discussed what to tell people, “uh, you’ll have to ask Cas. I’m gonna go find him.”

Dean checks around the dance floor, the bar, and the bathroom. He checks in dark corners and even sticks his head out the front door near the smoking area. Frowning, he trots up to the DJ stage.

“Have you seen Cas?” he yells above the music to Gabe. “I can’t find him.”

Gabe scrutinizes him. Whatever he’s looking for, Dean assumes he passed because the man asks, “Did you check outside?” pointing toward the side entrance. Dean shakes his head, then thanks Gabe and heads to the door. A tall, intimidating, dark-skinned man stands beside it.

“Is Castiel out there?”

The man nods but does nothing else. Dean gestures to the door and, when the man does nothing to stop him, shrugs and presses on the metal push bar to let himself outside. He sees Cas leaning against the brick, staring into space, as he peeks around the corner of the alcove. “Cas? There you are. You okay?”

Cas seems to snap out of whatever is occupying his thoughts. He looks a little sad or distant or something. Whatever it is, it bothers Dean greatly. Here Dean is, having a great time, and Cas is out here all by himself. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just taking a break. How's it going?”

Dean’s not sure how truthful Cas is being right now, since he’s still getting to know him, but Cas is smiling. Maybe he’s just one of those people who needs to get out of the crowds every so often. At Cas’ raised eyebrows and expectant, open face, Dean shakes his head and smiles shyly, pausing to collect his thoughts before looking up at Cas. “It's been so great,” he says finally. “I didn't realize how much I missed them. And your friends and family are great, too, Cas.” Cas smiles softly at Dean and nods. “Uh,” Dean says, “what do I tell them about us? They've been asking and I chickened out and told them to ask you.”

Cas chuckles and shrugs. “The truth? My brother already knows. My sister and friends will be surprised, but they won't look down on me for it. What do you want to tell your friends?”

“The truth is cool,” Dean says after a moment. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Guess we should go back and face the firing squad, hmm?”

When Cas and Dean return, their friends are gathered around a tiny table taking shots. They pounce on the pair as soon as Jess beats everyone by getting her three shots down the fastest.

“So what's the deal with you two, hmm?” Charlie asks with wiggling brows, directing her question to Cas.

“Ah, well, we are... oh shit,” Cas starts, looking between Jo and Dean. Dean, watching Cas with a fondness he shouldn’t feel for a man he barely knows, realizes then that Jo is his employee and this might be strange for him to share aloud with her. He knows Jo, though, so he smiles softly at him, reassuring him that it’ll be okay. Cas nods and says, “Uh, we met at a bar and decided to have a one-night stand. So... yeah, that's what we're going to do. We are... future temporary partners?” he squints as he turns to Dean. It seems like a good description, if a bit long, so he shrugs and nods. The crowd of friends starts talking all at once. Cas gives them an edited version of what has passed between them to date, leaving out the sex shop and the gonorrhea and Dean’s waterworks. Dean, deciding that Cas has given him enough confidence not to be ashamed, jumps in and tells the group that Benny gave him gonorrhea and he’s pissed off as hell about it. Everyone agrees that the guy’s an asshole, and the conversation is diverted. Dean's friends start sharing the concerns they've had over the last several months about Dean while Cas' friends talk about how Benny earned the V.D. nickname at the club. Dean feels horrible about not seeing how much his friends care about him and what a crappy situation he was in, and he feels grateful that they stuck with him and still love him.

“So wait, what happens after this?” Max asks, getting back to the topic of Dean and Cas. “I mean, after you have sex? Is that it? Are you guys not gonna hang out after?”

Dean and Cas share blank looks. “Uh, that's it, I guess?” Cas says, looking away. “I mean, that's what a one-night stand is, correct? No strings?” he finishes casually. Dean smiles tightly and pretends not to feel the strange pull inside his gut.

Their friends harangue them about their agreement, arguing that they should at the very least stay friends or friends with benefits if not partners. Cas looks uncomfortable, probably not used to friends and family weighing in on his life the way Dean’s do, and frankly Dean is pretty uncomfortable himself. He thinks back to everything that’s happened the last couple of days and suddenly, despite how happy he is to have his friends again, he wants a little alone time. With Cas. He curls an arm around Cas, relishing the feel of his broad shoulders, and walks them away from the well-meaning friends, waving as he goes.

“Let's go dance and not worry about this, alright?” Dean murmurs in Cas' ear as he leads him to the dance floor. It’s the first time they’ve gotten to dance together without a crowd of friends around them. A low, sultry song with a thrumming beat starts playing. Cas is hot as hell with his messy hair combed with nervous fingers and his bedroom eyes that are staring so intensely at him that Dean finally knows what it means to have someone undress you with their eyes. The heat in Cas’ stare is intoxicating, reminding him of the night of their agreement, and Dean wants to sink himself into those eyes that are deep enough to hold both lust and compassion. Damn, he wants this man, even if only for a night. “I can't wait to fuck you, Cas,” Dean says as he wraps his arms around his middle and pulls their hips together.

“God, me too,” Cas groans, pulling Dean closer as he winds his arms around his neck. They touch their foreheads together but don't kiss, losing themselves in each other's hungry gazes instead. “Don't you dare miss a dose,” he growls. Dean laughs as he closes the gap between their bodies and embraces him tightly, wishing this moment could last forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Cas' perspective, including what he's doing all by his lonesome when Dean is looking for him, check out chapter 4 of the companion story, "Just a One-Night Stand" (http://archiveofourown.org/works/13386972).


	5. Chapter 5

It’s driving Dean crazy.

He really has no _need_ to text Cas, but the _desire_ to text him is overwhelming, especially reflecting on the last few days. Dean shared his deepest pain and shame — something he never would have shared with anyone — with the man who would be his one-night stand. Naturally, it makes a guy feel closer to someone, Dean muses. That’s why he wants to text him. It’s not because they’ve been spending time together, getting to know each other before The Event. It’s not because he’s been dreaming of blue eyes and soft hands lately. It’s not because he wants something more than sex with Cas. Even if he did, he can’t. Cas doesn’t want anything else from Dean but what they agreed to — a satisfying fuck for both of them. Everything else that’s happened between them has been some kind of bonus, Lady Luck throwing Dean a bone.

Dean sighs. He might as well gnaw on the bone while he can.

_To Cas 7:49pm: I’m bringing something fatty for lunch tomorrow, so be prepared._

_To Dean 7:51pm: Are you, now? Why’s that?_

Dean smiles down at his phone. Cas always responds, even when he’s busy. It’s way more than he ever got from Benny.

_To Cas 7:52pm: Because we worked off a lot of calories on Saturday night. Wouldn’t want to waste away._

_To Dean 7:53pm: That’s a very convincing argument. Thank you for looking out for us. We do need to keep up our energy. ;)_

It’s the winking face that does it for Dean. His grin spreads across his face as his gut swoops up and jostles his heart, making it flutter. But then he remembers. _One-night stand, Winchester._

_To Cas 7:55pm: If that’s the case, then we’ll need a heart-stopping, calorie-laden breakfast when we finally get together. We’ll be burning way more calories then. ;)_

_To Dean 7:56pm: Looking forward to it. ;)_

Damn, this man is going to kill him.

On Monday morning, Dean is whistling as he sorts through the work orders for the day. He finishes off his bagel, then ducks into the bathroom to wash down his antibiotic with a swig of water he drinks directly from the tap. He wonders whether Cas would laugh at him ducking his head under the stream of water or whether he’d scold him or just roll his eyes. Dean votes for eye-rolling. He then wonders why drinking water made him think of Cas. Charlie would make some kind of joke about him thirsting for Cas. And now he’s thinking dirty thoughts of Cas in a soaked white dress shirt. _Son of a bitch._ He sends a text to Cas:

_To Cas 7:58am: Day 4 ;)_

Cas responds with his own winking face, and Dean snaps his phone closed as he walks out of the bathroom.

“What were you doing in there to make you smile like that, Winchester?” Jesse teases him as he steps to grab the door from Dean’s grasp. Dean flips him off and gets to work. Lunchtime can’t come soon enough.

At noon, Dean picks up a cheesy, meat-laden pizza and greets Jo when he walks into the office. He invites her to join them, knowing her affinity for a thick slice of greasy pie, and she meets them in the breakroom a few minutes later. In an effort to embarrass him, Dean suspects, she starts telling Cas stories from when they were growing up. Cas seems enchanted by the simple tales of childhood foolishness, chuckling appreciatively.

“You led very idyllic, normal childhoods,” Cas sighs with a little smile that Dean adores. “Completely different from mine.” At that, Cas bites his lip and swallows, and Dean’s curiosity is piqued. For all of the conversations they’ve had, Cas has said very little about his parents or his childhood. He wonders if something tragic happened.

“Oh, how’s that?” Dean asks, leaning forward. He knows it’s not his business, but he hopes Cas will trust him. _Them_ , he remembers as he feels Jo’s presence next to him. He’d briefly forgotten she was there. Cas looks hesitant, but speaks anyway.

“We, uh, had a non-traditional life, you might say,” Cas admits. “My parents were – are – free spirits, and we basically lived around the world. We lived in an RV and camped in the north in the warmer months and in the south in the cooler months. We were homeschooled, of course. Dad wrote freelance for magazines and mom made crafts and sold them at fairs and markets all over the place. Sometimes they’d work at county fairs or circuses running games or rides, or they’d pick up whatever job was advertised on the side of the road, like picking apples or hunting or helping a bunch of nudists build a community room at their commune. When we were each old enough to do something, Gabe and Anna and I helped out.”

Dean looks at him as if he is meeting him for the first time. _Circuses? Nudists?_

“When I was older and a bit more self-sufficient, they bought us passports and we traveled abroad, backpacking and living in hostels or with random strangers or tribes. We still did odd jobs, and we did humanitarian work. We came back to the U.S. when I turned 20. I went to college, Anna worked as a promoter for a bunch of rock bands for a while, and Gabe worked as a kids’ entertainer until he became a DJ; he’s the program manager now and does a morning show with Zar, who you met.” Dean knew their voices sounded familiar; their show is often on at the garage in the morning. “My parents bought another RV and are now in Mexico, last I knew.”

Dean is scrabbling for something to say, and Jo just looks dumbfounded. “Um. Wow, Cas,” Dean manages to spit out.

“Yeeeaaahhh… so, that’s me.” He looks very self-conscious.

“But you’re so normal and boring,” Jo murmurs, and Dean flicks his fingers against her arm in admonishment. Cas has never opened up about his family. He gets the feeling that Cas is a bit embarrassed about his atypical but fascinating upbringing, and he doesn’t want Jo to make him feel uncomfortable. Thankfully, Cas takes it in stride.

“We moved around so much and I had so many ‘experiences’ that I needed a bit of stability. I got used to staying in one place while I was in college, so afterward I just settled here. Gabe and Anna followed me here when I enrolled in school. They say it’s because I’m the baby and they didn’t want me to be alone, but I know better.” He smiles wistfully before adding, “I guess I’m not all that ‘wild’ like the rest of my family.”

Dean shoots him an incredulous smirk and a cocked eyebrow, knowing just how wild Cas could be (and feeling like he’d only scratched the surface). Cas won’t look at him, but he’s smiling shyly.

“Wildest thing you’ve ever done,” Jo demands. When Cas tries to protest, she says, “Come on now, you know it’s always the quiet ones who are the wildest. With everything you did growing up, there has to be something.” Cas answers that propositioning a stranger for sex was probably the wildest thing, and Dean bumps his knee against Cas’, even now flabbergasted that Cas had chosen him. When Cas presses his knee purposefully into Dean’s, he feels his ears burn. Jo argues that everyone does that, but Cas says that he never had before, which makes Dean feel even more grateful for the blue-eyed man next to him.

“I mean something else, like charming a snake or something.” Dean rolls his eyes and gives Jo a “what the fuck?” look, but Cas is considering her question thoughtfully, and Dean really wants to hear the answer.

“I held numerous snakes when we worked with a snake wrangler. I have gone swimming with sharks and I’ve had my head in the mouth of a lion. Um… I…”

“Dude, seriously?” Dean asks. He hopes Cas will elaborate, because that sounds cool, but he doesn’t.

“Yes, seriously. Uh, I once drove 250 kilometers per hour on the Autobahn with the car of a guy we were staying with.”

 _Now THAT sounds cool._ “Holy shit,” Dean whispers, then repeats in a shout. “Dude, that’s like super fuckin’ fast!”

“Just over 155 miles per hour,” Cas says offhandedly, but shoots Dean a proud little grin.

Jo asks him what else he’s done, and he explains that he got a nipple piercing at 15 but let it close up because his ex didn’t like it. Dean felt a little sad about that one. He would’ve liked to have seen it. His disappointment turns to intrigue when Cas continues.

“I got a tattoo when I was 16. It’s a traditional Japanese tattoo called an irezumi.” Jo shrieks. She loves tattoos, especially of the Japanese tradition. She asks where it is. “Between my shoulder blades,” he answers. “It’s a bird among clouds. The artist hid words in the wings; they call that kakushibori, which means hidden carving.”

“Wow,” Dean says. He leans back subtly a few times to see if it’s bright enough to see through Cas’ dress shirt. Cas catches him peeking and gives him a slow, promising wink that melts his insides and makes him readjust in his seat. The front door buzzes as Jo is talking Cas’ ear off about everything she knows about tattoos. She abandons their conversation reluctantly to attend to the office and their guest.

The men stand and clean up the remnants of lunch, which is an empty pizza box and a couple of pieces of crust that Jo didn’t eat. Dean can’t keep his eyes off Cas’ back (or the rest of him, for that matter), and the glimpse into Cas’ background, coupled with that sexy wink, has Dean’s thoughts rolling in a very naughty way. “You’ll get to see it soon enough,” Cas teases, still with his back to Dean.

“I can’t fuckin’ wait,” Dean growls, not bothering to deny what he was doing. Cas laughs brightly, more relaxed now that they’re alone, and his twinkling eyes hold mischief and promise. Dean crowds into his space, his arms on either side as he pins Cas against the table, and says, “So, any other wild things you’ve done, Cas?”

“A few things,” he says with a casual lilt before pressing him back a step with a hand on his chest. “And I hope to do a few more. Now get out of my office, will you?” Dean laughs at Cas’ teasing even as his face flushes brightly from the insinuation that matches the promise Dean still sees in his baby blues. No one has ever made him feel like this, and he wonders what it is about Cas that does so. Maybe it’s his upbringing. Maybe it’s his personality. Or maybe it’s some combination. Whatever it is, it’s special. _He’s_ special, and Dean thinks Cas should know that.

“Dude, I think you’re more like your family than you think,” he says as he gathers his things. “‘Cause you are definitely not boring. Or even normal. But I like it.” He winks and waves as he leaves the office, hoping Cas will understand what he is trying to say: _You’re amazing just the way you are._

Dean is still thinking about Cas when he arrives back at work, which isn’t a surprise since he thought about the man all the way back. Cas has lived this incredible life that most people don’t get to live, and yet here he is, in Snoresville, where Lady Luck deemed that he should meet Dean Winchester, an average Joe who hasn’t done a whole lot but fuck up his life for no good reason other than his tendency to let others take advantage of him. Well, that’s going to change. He has choices. He has opportunities. There’s a lot to learn about himself. And, one day at a time, he’s going to do it.

But first...

_From Dean 1:26pm: You should at least send me a pic of your tat. Give me something to think about._

_From Cas 1:29pm: [2 photos] Thank God I had these in my camera roll from when my college friend asked me recently. Otherwise Jo would have had to take them, and I think she knows way more about her employer than I had ever planned._

Dean laughs as he ducks into the bathroom and opens up the photos. _Damn_. The bird is blue, like his eyes, flying in clouds tinged with pink and gold. Its wings do indeed hold words, woven so intricately into the feathers he wouldn’t have noticed them if he didn’t know to look for them. They make a sentence.

“Seeking myself, I fly. Finding myself, I soar.” Dean murmurs the words over and over, tracing them on the tiny screen of his lousy, low-resolution phone. He wonders how much more beautiful the tattoo is in person. He wonders how much more beautiful the body the tattoo is etched on will be in person. Groaning, he wills himself to think of anything but Cas so that he can face his co-workers without an obvious erection. After several deep breaths and running cold water over his hands and face, he calms down enough to finish his day.

When he falls asleep that night, the man with the bird tattoo is on his mind yet again.

***

The days pass by more quickly than Dean anticipated they would. Dean sends Cas the countdown as he takes his meds each day. He tells himself it’s because Cas told him to make sure he took his meds, but it’s also to make sure Cas still wants this, and to remind himself what this is between them.

_To Cas 7:24am: Day 5 – halfway there!_

_To Cas 7:06am: Day 7 :)_

_To Cas 8:41am: Day 9 – holy shit!_

And Cas responds in kind:

_To Dean 7:27am: :D_

_To Dean 7:14am: I’m so excited :)_

_To Dean 9:02am: Holy fuck! Soon I’ll be saying your name. ;)_

That last one really got to him.

On day 10, Dean wakes up early, way more excited than usual. He gulps down his last pill with the same glee as a kid being told they’re going to Disney World. They still won’t be able to go for it until the results come back, but it’s still worth celebrating. Figuring this is worth a phone call rather than a text, Dean calls Cas. It rings a few times before Cas answers.

“Hello, Dean.”

Barely hearing Cas’ greeting in his excitement, Dean shouts, “Cas! Just took my last one! Hallelujah!”

“Last what?”

“My med, dork,” Dean smiles at Cas’ teasing. He knows what Dean is talking about. Right?

“I know. Just teasing you,” the man responds, clearing his throat.

“Yeah, I guess I’ve sent you enough reminders, huh? I…” Dean’s brain catches up with his emotions then, and he notices that Cas’ voice sounds different than usual. He almost sounds out of breath. “Hey, are you okay? Your voice sounds… off.”

“Yeah, fine, just haven’t used it yet this morning,” Cas answers. “You sound pretty happy about being done.” His voice sounds strained. Maybe the man hasn’t had his coffee yet. Dean’s voice can get a bit croaky if he hasn’t had his.

“Well, yeah. I mean, we’ll have to wait a couple of weeks for the results, but after that…”

“After that, what?” Cas asks. His voice still sounds off to Dean.

“After that, you know… I mean, unless you don’t want to anymore,” he says uncertainly. _Is Cas having second thoughts?_ “We don’t have to. I’m not gonna get mad. I mean, I’ll be disappointed but…”

“Dean,” Cas says, pausing oddly before he continues, “of course I do.” He pauses again, then says, in a breathy whisper, “I just need you to remind me exactly what you’re going to do to me.”

Dean’s not so certain he can keep himself together after hearing Cas’ shameless teasing. _Ugh, his voice sounds so sinful, so real. Damn, I can’t wait to hear what he really sounds like when he’s actually aroused and writhing under me_. And more than just his own arousal, Dean also feels a sudden wave of shyness. Cas is teasing, he knows, but he’s also expecting something out of this encounter that Dean’s not sure he’ll be able to deliver satisfactorily.

“Well,” Dean says, the shyness weaving through his words rather than his usual bravado, “I’m, if you still want, I’m gonna, um… you know, Cas!” he finishes with embarrassment.

“Tell me,” he growls. “Tell me exactly what you’re going to do. What we both want. Come on.”

 _Damn it, why does the man have to be so damn hot?_ The pressure to be able to deliver what he said he would when they made their agreement increases tenfold as he tries to answer Cas’ question. “You told me you wanted me to pound you, so…” he says hesitantly. He hopes Cas hasn’t changed his mind.

“Tell me what you want to do, Dean.” Dean is incredulous. Cas knows what he wants. Besides, isn’t Cas’ ultimate goal to get what _he_ wants? That’s kind of how one-night stands work. How Dean’s have worked, anyway. He’s always been generous to his hookups, but they haven’t always been so generous in response, a couple of notable exceptions notwithstanding.

“You know what I want. Same as you,” he answers.

“Listen, Dean,” he says in a voice that could make him come untouched, “I’m not doing anything with you until you tell me what you want. What I want is full and enthusiastic consent. So tell me what you want.”

Dean gulps. Someone’s asking him, clearly and insistently, what he wants, like he really cares about it. He thinks Cas actually does. “I wanna fuck you.”

“Louder.”

“I wanna fuck you, Cas,” he says, confidence swirling through his core.

“Louder, Dean!” Cas commands. It sounds eager rather than controlling. The excitement Dean feels at being _asked_ what he wants, at being taken seriously, and at his (future) partner actually being excited in return about Dean getting what he wants, breaks apart the last of Dean’s conditioned reserve.

“I wanna pound you into the mattress until we break it!” he growls loudly. He expects an answer from Cas, but hears nothing but a few muffled sounds he can’t decipher.

“Cas?” he calls. “Cas? You okay?” He calls his name a couple more times before Cas answers him.

“I’m right here, Dean,” Cas says. He sounds drowsy and sluggish.

“Hey, you alright? You disappeared for a minute there.” He rubs his neck, a nervous habit. “Was I, um, I mean, did I say too much? Was I… too much?”

“You were perfect, Dean,” the man assures him, then laughs this little high-pitched thing that makes him sound high. Dean’s never heard him like this. It’s cute, if slightly troubling.

“Okaaay, then,” Dean says with mirth and a bit of doubt. “You sure you’re alright? You still sound different than usual.”

“Perfect,” Cas rumbles in his low baritone that’s hot as fuck. “I’m going to get up and take a shower now.”

Dean understands now. He called too early and woke him up. Now he feels bad. “Dude, you’re still in bed? That explains why you sound so wrecked. Sorry for waking you, man. You should’ve told me; I would’ve let you go back to sleep.”

“Mmm, no, you didn’t wake me, Dean,” Cas chuckles. “I’ll see you tomorrow to go to the clinic.”

He hangs up and Dean stares at his phone long after the screen goes black. What the fuck was that? Dean thinks about it for a minute, but nothing that makes sense comes to mind. He tries to push the strange call out of his head as he gets ready for the day. He and Sam have plans to go to the movies, even though seeing movies at the theater is such a rip-off.

Despite his attempts, he’s unsuccessful. In the shower he thinks, _Did I really wake him up and he didn’t want to tell me?_ Getting dressed, he thinks, _Drugs? Nah._ Tidying up the little space, he thinks, _Did he just come back from running? Why wouldn’t he just say so?_ Doing the dishes, he thinks, _Was he with someone?_ And once that thought lodges itself into his mind, it won’t leave.

He has no right to expect that Cas will “save himself” for Dean. Cas is clean, after all, was clean the whole time. Why should he wait? Maybe he just couldn’t wait any longer. Maybe he was tired of Dean’s shit with his stupid STD and his asshole ex. Maybe he’s just humoring Dean now because he feels bad for him. Maybe he interrupted them. Maybe he was the unwitting third party in their sexual encounter and they were getting off on Cas’ dirty talk to the idiot on the phone. Maybe he’s just like Benny. Maybe…

_Okay, this has to stop._

He picks up his phone and sends a text:

_To Cas 12:22pm: Okay, stupid question, but if I didn’t wake you, then what were you doing? It’s driving me nuts. I know I don’t have the right to ask but I am anyway. You can tell me to go to hell._

Dean waits nervously for Cas’ response. It’s not what he expects. He doesn’t even understand it.

_To Dean 12:24pm: Let’s just say the PSA was on point._

_To Cas 12:25pm: The what?_

_To Dean 12:28pm: [1 photo]_

Dean opens the photo Cas sent. It’s a photo of Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots, the toy they talked about the night they met. He doesn’t understand.

_To Cas 12:28pm: Dude, you sent me a pic of Rock Em Sock Em Robots_

And then, he does.

_To Cas 12:29pm: Does this mean_

_To Cas 12:29pm: PSA = prostate stimulating action?_

_To Dean 12:29pm: ;)_

Dean stares at the winking face. _Shit_. Cas was _using his toy when they were on the phone_. The breathy sounds and deeper voice now make perfect sense. The anxiety he felt just a few minutes ago morphs into arousal as he pictures Cas riding the toy. _Fuck_. He needs something to do with his hands, so he sends text after text rapidly, barely keeping up with his racing thoughts.

_To Cas 12:30pm: Holy shit_

_To Cas 12:30pm: While we were on the phone?_

_To Cas 12:30pm: And you didn’t tell me_

_To Cas 12:30pm: Holy shit_

_To Cas 12:31pm: Dude that’s so fucking hot_

_To Cas 12:32pm: I can’t believe you were so quiet_

_To Cas 12:32pm: But that explains why your voice sounded so wrecked_

_To Cas 12:33pm: You left our call for a minute_

Dean stops. He left the call for a minute, right when Dean told him he wanted to pound him. He remembers Cas’ voice getting louder and more demanding, then silence and strange muffled sounds, then Cas sounding like he was stoned… _fuck_.

_To Cas 12:34pm: DUDE DID YOU FUCKING COME WHILE WE WERE ON THE PHONE????_

_To Dean 12:34pm: Umm… yes?_

Dean is convinced this man is going to kill him in the best way possible. He groans as his rock-hard cock throbs in his jeans.

_To Cas 12:34pm: So. Fucking. Hot._

_To Cas 12:35pm: I can’t wait to fuck you_

He snickers before sending the next text, though it’s completely true.

_To Cas 12:36pm: Damn you should’ve told me I would’ve joined you_

_To Cas 12:36pm: Could’ve seen how the zippers worked on the panties you bought me_

He’s not sure how that would’ve worked with their agreement, but he would’ve been willing to find out. He glances at the time and balks.

_To Cas 12:37pm: Fuck I gotta go. Sam’s coming over in 15 min and I am NOT gonna have a boner_

Without waiting for Cas’ answer, Dean runs to the bathroom and rubs one out, the quickest he ever has. Picturing Cas pleasuring himself as they talked this morning, it isn’t difficult to do.

On Monday, Dean wakes up in a good mood. Maybe an even better mood than yesterday, when he finished his meds. He couldn’t get Cas out of his head yesterday… his handsome face, his deep, breathy voice… needless to say, he can’t wait to see him this morning for their retest. He throws on an old pair of jeans and his favorite Zep shirt and heads out the door, arriving at Cas’ office shortly after Jo arrives at 8:00.

“You’re early,” Jo remarks. “You guys doing breakfast now?”

He sticks his tongue out at her as he rests an asscheek on her desk. She pokes him with a pen and calls Cas. Cas steps out of his office, his hair already messy from running his fingers through it as he works. He looks like he’s been here for a while. Safely out of Jo’s line of sight, Cas’ eyes skim Dean’s body, and a tiny smirk plays on his lips. Dean bites his lip coyly, both to tease the man for making him restless all day yesterday and to cover his inexplicable nervousness. Without a word, Cas passes by Dean and out of the office, Dean following just behind him (and his ass _still_ looks great in dress pants). They breathe in the fresh air of the mild morning and start walking. Dean wonders if he should say anything about yesterday. He decides to go for it.

“So I thought about you a lot yesterday,” Dean admits, leaning into Cas’ ear as they walk.

“Is that so?” Cas says, seemingly unfazed until he continues, “Funny, I only thought of you once. But that one time lasted all day.” He winks and Dean feels his face flush with heat.

They talk about everything and nothing, really, and it’s still comfortable even with the flirting they throw in. Cas tells him about a little brown rabbit he saw on his run, and Dean makes a joke about seeing him all sweaty in tight shorts. Cas asks about his time with Sam and Dean honestly can’t remember anything about the movie they went to see; Cas teases him about being too preoccupied with thoughts of that morning and Dean doesn’t deny it. They bump elbows when they walk, they laugh a little too loudly at the clinic, and Dean is certain Cas catches a whiff of Dean’s favorite cologne that he splashed on this morning, just as Dean notices Cas’ — a heady, citrus scent that makes Dean want to mouth at Cas’ neck. Their time together is too short, and soon they’re back at Cas’ office. He isn’t sure what they should do now.

“So, two weeks or less,” Dean blurts as they arrive back at his office. It feels strangely reminiscent of the first time they’d gotten tested, the anxiety of not knowing where they stand.

“Yes,” Cas says with a warm glow in his eyes that puts Dean at ease. Even though all the evidence points to the contrary, Dean’s still nervous that Cas will back out. But he trusts the earnest blue eyes gazing at him with something Dean has never experienced before, and he nods.

“So, uh, I’ll talk to you soon,” Dean promises. Cas nods, and they part ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some additional background/history regarding Cas’ past and his side of his “party for one,” check out chapter 5 of the companion fic to this story, “Just a One-Night Stand” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/13386972).


	6. Chapter 6

The two weeks between their retests and the results are kind of a mixed bag. On the one hand, he’s still been seeing Cas, sharing lunches and texts and whatnot, and that has made the other crap so much easier. It isn’t as often as it was, and that’s mostly on Dean, because he knows he isn’t a barrel of fun right now. And that’s because of the crap, whose name is Benny. Benny, who’s been blowing up his phone with messages. Benny, who changed the damn locks so he couldn’t get his stuff. Benny, the asshole who fucked up Dean’s head for six months of his life, which Dean gets more and more pissed off about the healthier he gets. Benny, who’s still mooching off Dean. All he wants to do is get his stuff and be done with him for good, but Benny’s holding it hostage. He thought giving in and just paying the rent and other bills last month would get him out of this mess and give the asshole time to find another roommate or to at least figure out the bills and whatnot, but it didn’t, because the messages haven’t stopped:

_“Hey, baby, come home and gimme some of that sweet ass. You miss my cock in you, don’t you?”_

_“Baby, come on home. You know you need me.”_

_“Baby, don’t you know how much you’re breaking my heart?”_

_“The rent is due, Dean. Until your shit is gone, you still live here.”_

When Sam calls on Monday morning to tell him his letter arrived, Dean wants to be happy. He _is_ happy, because if the results are good then he can finally fuck Cas, and isn’t that what he wants? Of course it is. A good fuck will help him get his head on straight. He tells Sam he’ll pick it up after work. He doesn’t see Cas for lunch that day, choosing to work through lunch instead, and he’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

“Here you go,” Jess says, handing him the white envelope when he stops by, along with a tin of cookies she made. “Big moment, huh? Or I guess it’ll lead to the big moment,” she grins with a wink.

“Yeah,” Dean nods without much enthusiasm.

“You okay?” Jess asks as she squints her eyes. “You don’t have to go through with it, you know.”

“No!” he says hurriedly. “No, just got other things on my mind.”

“It’ll be okay, Dean. And even if the meds didn’t work the first go-round, I bet Cas would still wait for you.”

Dean shakes his head ruefully. “Yeah, I think he would. I have no idea why.”

“Because he thinks you’re awesome, duh,” she smiles, pinching his cheek. “He liiiiikes you. And you really liiiike him.”

“It’s not like that, Jess,” Dean gripes as he blushes. “It’s just a one-night stand.”

“Yeah, okay,” she nods, clearly not believing him. Dean doesn’t really believe himself anymore, either. Not on his part, anyway.

At home, Dean stares at the envelope. He takes a shower, dries off, dresses, and stares at the envelope again. He worries about the contents. What if the meds really didn’t work? What if they discovered something else? He doesn’t want to open it alone.

_To Cas 6:25pm: Can you come over? I got my letter._

_To Dean 6:26pm: Sure. Are you at home? Is everything okay?_

It’s strange how eight words can make Dean’s heart leap. Cas has shown him more care and concern than anyone outside his family and a couple of friends.

_To Cas 6:27pm: I just don’t want to open it alone. Yeah, got my letter from Sam’s place and I’m at home now. Or I can come to you?_

_To Dean 6:29pm: That’s fine. I’m taking lasagna out of the oven in 20 minutes if you’d like to join me for dinner._

Dean tries and fails to convince himself that the warm, excited feeling overtaking his face is because of the prospect of homemade lasagna and not the prospect of dinner with Cas at his house. He wonders if Cas even realizes how amazing he is and how much he’s done for Dean just by being himself.

_To Cas 6:30pm: You had me at lasagna. Actually, you had me at you. ;) Be there soon._

Cas replies with his address and tells him to just walk in when he arrives. When he finds the slate blue house with the black shutters and the neatly manicured but unfussy lawn, he smiles. It’s not as ostentatious as he’d pictured when he first met the man. It suits him. Dean eyeballs the garage as he pulls into the driveway. It has plenty of room, at least from the outside. He’s envious of it. Taking a deep breath, he picks up the envelope and the cookies Jess gave him and carries himself inside with more confidence than he feels. “Hey,” he smiles. Cas looks up from the pile of mail in his hand and smiles so widely his gums peek out. It’s downright fucking adorable.

Cas gives him the tour of the house, and the garage is every bit as awesome on the inside. Cas keeps it very neat and clean. There are tools along one wall, and it looks like he might even use them. He takes him to the backyard, which he loves. Taking in the large deck with the grill and the hot tub, he jokes, “Dude, I’d just drag my bed outside and live out here.” Cas chuckles and leads him inside, where he takes the lasagna out of the oven. Dean helps him set the table, and they sit to eat. He praises Cas’ cooking skills and shares his own love of cooking, something he misses doing now that his kitchen is the size of a broom closet. They talk about their favorite things to make and what they absolutely can’t stand to eat (calamari for Cas, asparagus for Dean), and Dean feels himself settling contently into their easy rhythm. After gobbling several of the cookies, Cas gets them each a beer and they sit on the couch.

“It’s kinda like the Oscars,” Dean jokes as he fumbles with the envelope. Cas smiles gently at him, but says nothing. He doesn’t really have to. His gentle presence and his leg subtly pressed against his is enough. As Dean scans the letter, his face falls slack in relief.

“Oh thank God,” Dean says as he shows the letter to Cas. Cas immediately collars Dean into a hug, gripping him tightly as Dean trembles and hugs him back.

“I’m so happy for you,” Cas says over Dean’s shoulder, just behind his ear. Dean squeezes him a little more tightly in thanks.

After a few minutes of silence as the good news sinks in, Dean figures the moment has come. He says as casually as he can muster, “So, uh, I guess we’re good to go, huh?” Cas agrees, but his eyes look a little far away, and Dean grows concerned. “Hey, you alright?”

“Yes, yes of course,” Cas says as he shakes his head. He places one of his wrists atop Dean’s shoulder and the warmth soaks through. “So, when were you thinking? Now, or…”

“No!” Dean jumps at Cas’ question. He’s not ready tonight. He needs to prepare himself mentally and physically. Mostly mentally. Not so much for the sex, but for the goodbye afterwards. “I mean, no, it doesn’t have to be tonight. Unless you want it to be…” he finishes weakly.

Cas shifts around in his seat. “Well, I don’t have any condoms…”

“Okay, yeah, me neither,” Dean hurries to add. He never thought he’d be so happy to _not_ have sex with someone he likes so much. Cas looks a little relieved, too, which is good. “It’s okay, though. I mean, I gotta work tomorrow anyway.”

“Yes, me too,” Cas says, that faraway look returning.

“Right. Okay. So, uh, I mean, is a weekend night better, though, or…”

“It doesn’t matter, really. I’m just not prepared tonight.”

“Yeah. Right. Okay. Um. How about Thursday?”

“Yes. Thursday would be great.”

After deciding that Thursday would be the day, they both relax. Cas turns on Netflix and they slip into the easy silence of… well, whatever this thing is they have.

Dean tries to keep himself busy until Thursday. He has dinner with Sam, Jess, and Ellen and mentions that he’ll be meeting up with Cas at the Roadhouse. Ellen scrutinizes him all through dinner as only a beloved aunt can, but she says nothing. Sam and Jess swear they didn’t tell her anything about his agreement with Cas, but he figures she somehow knows anyway. He works an extra hour on Tuesday and Wednesday so he can leave early on Thursday; his co-workers give him shit but he knows they’re not truly upset with him. He ignores the continuing messages from his ex. After work on Thursday, he showers and shaves, then styles his hair and dresses in a pair of jeans without grease stains and a black button-down shirt. Licking his lips, he looks at himself in the mirror and gives himself a pep talk.

“Okay, Winchester, you can do this. You are confident, you are strong. You know how to be a good sexual partner. You’ve been waiting six weeks to do this. You want this. Come on.” Heaving a sigh and plastering a smile on his face, he heads downstairs.

Cas is sitting at the bar talking to Ellen, still wearing his suit from work even though it’s too warm for one. A genuine smile pokes at the corners of his mouth. He’s going to miss him. _Fuck_. He plasters the fake smile back on and slides into the barstool next to him, a hand finding Cas’ back. “Hey, I heard this really hot guy is lookin’ for a night of passion?” Cas leans into the touch and shoots him a sly, sexy glance.

“Is that so? You might want to go find him, then,” Cas smirks, making Dean’s belly swoop with something he assumes is arousal, even though he’s not really in the mood tonight. He leans forward to speak in Cas’ ear.

“I'm lookin' at him,” he purrs. Cas’ eyes dilate, but instead of pouncing on Dean like most hookups he pushes the beer Ellen left toward him. He nods in thanks and twists it open, then takes a long swallow. He lets the amber liquid coat his throat as he steels himself to play his part. He closes his eyes for a moment, then turns to Cas and flashes him the killer grin that has gotten him many a lay. Cas, though, is just watching him — not with lust, but with concern. _Well, shit._

“What's wrong, Dean?”

“What? Nothing! Just ready for tonight!” He smiles brightly, trying to throw Cas off the trail with dazzling teeth. It doesn’t work.

“Uh-huh. Let's try this again. What's wrong, Dean?”

Dean stares at the varnished bar. He doesn’t know how Cas sees through all his bullshit. “Nothing, really, just... havin' a crappy couple of weeks.” He fingers the napkin underneath his bottle, tearing the moist paper, and waits for his response. He knows that most hookups would just give him a few words of sympathy or placation, and a few would even take advantage of his vulnerability. Cas, he suspects, is not one of those hookups.

“I noticed,” he says after a bit of silence, and now Dean feels awful.

“Oh. Shit, I'm sorry. It wasn’t you, I swear,” he says, pressing a hand on his shoulder in reassurance. The last thing he wants is to make Cas feel like this is his fault. He tries to get their evening back on track. “But hey, nothin’ a roll in the hay can’t fix!” he grins.

“No need to be sorry. So I'm hoping third time's the charm, here... What's wrong, Dean?” He pins Dean in place with a sharp stare, and Dean knows he isn’t going to let him squirm out of this.

“It's Benny,” Dean mutters with a sigh.

“What about him?”

Dean really doesn’t want to get into this. It’s not fair that Cas should have to listen to his stupid problems. Before he can say that, though, Cas adds, “It's okay to talk about him. You won't offend me.”

Dean can’t take it anymore. It’s not fair, it’s not right, and his asshole ex is still screwing up his life. “See, that's the whole fucked-up thing about this!” Dean explodes, the stress of the last couple of weeks scattering like buckshot. “This is our night. _Our night_. I should be psyched. Instead, I'm stressed out because the rent is due at the apartment again soon and I want to stop paying but I need my stuff and I can't get in because he changed the locks, and he keeps calling me, and I don't wanna go there when he's there, and...”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute. Did you say you're still paying rent? You’re not on the lease, and you haven't lived there in weeks!”

“I know, man, I know! But I have a shit-ton of expensive tools there, and I have old family photos and shit that I can't replace, and....” He stops and looks at Cas, desperately wanting him to understand. He does, of course, and in the sweetest way.

“And you didn't want him to destroy your things,” Cas murmurs. He rests his hand on Dean's knee and says, “Oh Dean, I'm so sorry.” Dean wants to lean into Cas, to fall into his arms and let him comfort him all night, but he can’t. That isn’t their agreement. In fact, Dean is doing a shit job of keeping up their agreement as it is.

“I feel like a fucking idiot, Cas,” Dean moans as he gulps back tears he refuses to shed. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t wanna see him but I don’t know what else to do.”

“Dean,” Cas says cautiously, closing his eyes briefly before looking at him again, “I have an idea, but before I share it I need to ask you something. Please don’t be offended.” Dean nods, and he takes a breath and asks, “Do you feel like you might want to get back together with him if you see him? Is there any tiny part of you that still wants to be with him and work things out?”

Dean rubs his face, smearing the condensation from the mostly-full beer bottle on his cheeks. It’s a good question, and he knows he needs to answer it honestly. “If you had asked me the night we met, or even a week or two later, there might have been. But between that damn STD and getting to know you better and hanging out with my friends again, I feel better and I realize there's so much better out there than him. So no, there's not even one atom in my body that wants to be with him anymore. I just want him out of my life for good.” Saying it out loud, Dean knows for sure that it is the absolute truth.

“Then let's make that happen, Dean,” Cas says with resolve. “Let's go get your stuff. Tonight. Now.”

 _No. I can’t do this to Cas_. “Cas, this is our night...”

“Nope. We have bigger things to do. Our one-night stand can wait.” He starts pulling Dean off the stool, but Dean digs his feet into the floor.

“Cas, you've been so great to me, I can't ask you to do this.”

Cas studies him. Dean knows his face probably speaks volumes to the blue-eyed man who can always see past his crap. “You didn't ask. I want to. Please,” he says. Dean studies his face in return. _Why does he want to?_ He doesn’t know the answer to his thought, but he knows Cas is a good man, so he finally agrees.

“Okay. Yeah, okay. But we won’t be able to get in,” he warns. “If he sees me he’s not gonna open the door ‘cause I told him the only reason I’d come around is to get my stuff and he said he wouldn’t let me in.” A thought enters his mind that makes him cringe. He pinches his lips closed for a moment before he continues, “I mean, I guess I could call him and pretend I changed my mind...”

Cas shakes his head. “Oh, no, don’t you worry. You don’t have to do that. I have another idea. Come with me. Let’s go storm the castle.” He pulls him off the stool completely and keeps his hand around Dean’s until they get to Cas’ car. He feels safe and cared for… a foreign thought about any of his one-night stands.

Dean sits quietly in Cas’ car and watches the world pass by the window while Cas makes a few phone calls on the way to his house. He’s tuned out, absorbed in his anxiety about confronting Benny. When they arrive there’s a pickup parked outside, and Cas’ brother Gabe is waiting in his living room.

“I’ll be out in a few minutes,” Cas tells Dean. His brother shoots Dean an arched eyebrow before following Cas. Dean isn’t sure what to make of it. He doesn’t have much time to ponder it, though, because a knock at the door brings his own brother, Sam.

“The hell are you doing here?”

Sam explains, “Jo called me, said Cas needed our help moving you out of Benny’s place. ‘Bout time.”

“Ha ha. Thanks.”

“I thought you guys were…?”

“We were, but…” Dean shrugs. “Cas thought this was the better plan.”

“This was Cas’ idea?” Sam asks, surprised.

“Well, it sure as hell wasn’t mine,” Dean snarks. “Think I’d be hitting up my one-night stand for a U-Haul?”

Before Sam can answer, a perfunctory knock and the door opening interrupts them.

“Uh, hey, uh...” Dean says, recognizing the man from the club but unable to call him by name.

“Uriel,” he introduces himself. He shakes the brothers’ hands just as Gabe emerges from the back of the house.

“Uri, you sexy beast!” he says to Uriel’s glare. The man can’t maintain the austere look (or, more likely, chooses not to) and smiles at Gabe.

“Gabe, always a delight,” he says sarcastically.

“You know it, Officer! C.J. will be out in a minute. Loverboy, a word?” Gabe gestures toward the deck and Dean follows.

Gabe gets right to the point. “This is a lot for him to do for a hookup, you know.”

“I know, man!” Dean replies, throwing his hands in the air as guilt drives his words. “I didn’t ask him to do this! He pulled me out of my fucking chair!”

“Mmm. And you couldn’t have convinced him otherwise?”

“I _tried_ , man,” Dean says desperately. “He wouldn’t hear it. Maybe you can do a better job of talking him out of things, but I can’t.”

Gabe smirks and shakes his head. “Nah, he’s pretty stubborn.” He pauses to fold his arms and walk the length of the deck. “Quite an agreement you guys have.”

Dean doesn’t know how to respond. “Uh, yeah. Your brother’s pretty fuckin’ awesome.”

“That he is. Be a damn shame for anyone to get hurt.” He looks at Dean pointedly, his mouth pursed.

“I don’t ever want to hurt him, Gabe,” Dean says quietly as he looks away. He swallows his nervousness. “We both agreed to this, for our own reasons, but I would back out in a heartbeat if there was a chance that he’d get hurt.”

Gabe steps into Dean’s space and, even though he’s several inches shorter, he’s intimidating. Still, the words he utters are not what Dean expects. “Not just talking about him, Loverboy.”

Gabe seems to have the same sort of beyond-the-bullshit soul-reading power that Cas does, and his words are unsettling. He doesn’t like that Gabe has spent five minutes with him and already knows that Dean is the one who will probably be hurting when it’s all over. He looks across the yard and says nothing, and soon he hears Gabe’s footsteps retreating. He sighs and follows him inside.

Gabe shows no indication that he’s just rocked Dean to his core, telling the others some joke about a goat. The group of men continue to talk amiably about small things until Cas joins them. When Dean turns, it’s all he can do to keep the drool from pouring involuntarily out of his mouth. Cas is wearing tight, dark jeans with small, fashionable tears and a tight black t-shirt with some sort of silver emblem. His hair is glossy and spiked and even messier than usual. He’s wearing bracelets and silver rings on several fingers. And his _face_ … it’s slightly shimmery and he’s wearing _eyeliner_ and it’s _hot as fuck_. Seeing Cas like this makes him regret what they’re missing tonight.

“Who are you and what have you done with Castiel?” Dean asks, hoping his voice sounds light and not like he wants to hump Cas on the floor.

“This is how I dress when I work at the club,” Cas explains. “This is how A.B. knows me best.”

“Ah,” Dean responds, swallowing as his eyes soak Cas in from head to toe. Cas offers Dean a tiny, shy smile, and Dean responds in kind before looking away, willing down the erection hardening in his boxers.

“So tell us the mission, O Capitán,” Gabe pleads with mock subservience. Castiel glares at his brother. Dean fights a smile.

“So we’re going to get Dean’s stuff,” Cas says flatly to Gabe. “Dean told me they have a video intercom at their apartment….”

“Fancy,” Gabe observes snarkily.

“Yeah, well, that’s because people kept getting robbed and assaulted.” At Dean’s explanation, Gabe raises his hands in apology.

“Anyway…” Cas gives his brother another pointed glare, “I’m going to show up and convince him to let me in. Once I get in, you guys follow me and stay hidden until I can get into the apartment. Once I do that, you’ll all follow and we’ll get his things. Uri, you’ll babysit him until we’re finished. The rest of us will get everything out and packed in Gabe’s truck and the cars. We’ll bring the stuff to Sam’s garage for now. Questions?”

“What if he doesn’t let you in?” Sam asks.

“Oh, he’ll let him in. He’s been after C.J.’s ass forever. Sorry, man,” Gabe winces as he looks at Dean, who just shakes his head.

“Let’s go,” Dean commands.

Dean is nervous when they pull into the familiar parking lot, and Cas places his hand on top of Dean’s. “It’ll be okay,” he soothes.

Dean absorbs Cas’ comfort before he says, “I know. Just want this to be over. I feel like such an asshole right now, Cas. Makin’ you do my dirty work, draggin’ you into this…”

“As I said, Dean,” Cas squeezes his hand, “you’re not making me do anything. You’re not the asshole here. He is.”

Gabe’s words float into his mind. “This is a lot to do for a hookup,” Dean says.

“Did Gabe get to you?” Cas lifts an eyebrow and Dean looks away, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. Cas sighs. “Dean, this falls under the category of human decency, okay? You’re a great guy and you got screwed, and I just can’t abide by that.”

 _Fuck, why? Why does he have to be just a one-night stand?_ “I’m supposed to be screwing you right now,” he jokes, retreating to the safer waters of deflection.

“Yeah,” Cas laughs. “It’s okay, though. We’ve gotta take care of this first, or you won’t have the presence of mind to make me lose mine.” Dean peeks at him from the corner of his eye, and Cas winks, making them both chuckle. He grips Dean’s hand a little tighter and says, “Listen, though. I’m going to have to say some things to get inside the apartment, and they might feel really bad because of his betrayal. I want you to know that I don’t mean them, okay?” Dean nods and Cas pumps his hand once more before letting go and getting out of the car, Dean following after.

Dean, Sam, Gabe, and Uri stand to the side of the intercom, where the camera won’t see them. “Here we go,” Cas mumbles as he holds his finger to his lips to silence them.

Castiel presses the intercom button and an all-too-familiar voice answers, turning Dean’s stomach. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Castiel answers, lowering his voice. It reminds Dean of their phone call when Cas was masturbating, his voice deep and breathy. Cas leans toward the camera lens and leers at it, his eyes hooded. Dean feels the sensation of vomit tickling his throat and Sam places a hand on his shoulder.

“C.J.?” the surprised voice asks.

“Mmmhmm. Are you alone?”

“Uhh, yeah.”

“Would you like some company? ‘Cause I’d like to be that company,” he says, leaning in further and smiling a lecherous smile. Dean gulps down the saliva pooling in his mouth.

“And here I thought you weren’t interested, brother. Now you’re showin’ up for a booty call. How’d you even know how to find me?” Dean knew Cas wouldn’t lie about Benny flirting with him, but the confirmation still hurts. He clenches his teeth.

“Asked around, sugar,” Cas purrs. “Couldn’t seem too interested at the club. I’d have everyone falling all over me all the time. And sugar, don’t call me brother. I don’t wanna be your brother, if you know what I mean.”

“Hot damn, C.J. Fuck. You wanna come in?”

“I wanna come, all right. Right in that hot, hard ass of yours.” Dean closes his eyes and prays this is almost over. His prayers are answered when the door buzzes open. Cas asks which apartment he’s going to, and Benny gives him directions. When it seems Benny is done talking, Cas steps to the door and pushes it open. He gestures to Dean and the others, who make their way out of sight of the camera and follow Cas inside. They take the stairs up to the second floor quietly, as if in some sort of military operation. At the top, Cas touches his hand right over Dean’s heart with an apologetic look, then proceeds while they stay in the stairwell to listen and wait. They can just barely hear the men around the corner.

“Well, helloooo, C.J.,” Dean hears what Benny calls his “seductive” voice.

“Hey there. Like what you see?”

“I do.”

There’s a bit of rustling, then they hear Cas say, “Nuh uh uh. I’m the one in charge here, sugar. You’ll touch when I say so.” Dean scowls as he hears that the asshole already tried to get his grubby paws on Cas, and bites his lip at Cas’ forthrightness. Benny always liked being the one in charge, and now Cas is trying to turn the tables. He swears to himself that he’ll kill Benny if he hurts Cas. The sudden rush of protectiveness surprises him, and he swallows down the feeling.

“A feisty one, are ya, C.J.? Gonna screw you so hard.”

“I think you’re the one getting screwed tonight, you bad boy,” Cas purrs. Dean and the others just barely keep themselves from snickering. If only the asshole knew just how badly he was about to get screwed. “Now grab that chair and go sit down in the corner. You’ve been naughty.” There’s a short pause before Cas says, “I said go, sugar. Or do I need to find a good time elsewhere?” After another pause, Benny calls for him not to leave. They hear muffled movement. Uri peeks around the corner, then heads toward the door and presses himself against the wall, like the seasoned police officer he apparently is when he’s not bouncing at the club. The three other men follow suit.

“Good boy. Stay,” Cas says. At that, Uri walks in, the others waiting. “Like I said, you’ve been naughty,” they hear him say in his normal voice. “We’re here to make it right.” Dean figures that’s a good enough signal for him, and he marches into the apartment, followed by Sam and Gabe. Benny is sitting in a kitchen chair in only his boxers. Cas and Uriel stand on either side of him. When Cas sees Dean, he pushes himself away from the counter and walks toward them, waiting for instructions.

“This was a setup!” Benny sputters, red-faced and indignant.

“Duh,” Gabe says with a smirk. “Think C.J.’s gonna hook up with you, there, Quarter-Pounder? When he’s got that to hit?” He thumbs at Dean, and Dean wiggles his brows at his ex, delighted to piss the man off.

Benny scowls and watches helplessly as the men gather Dean’s tools, clothing, and personal effects. He whimpers when they pick up the couch and matching chair, complaining that he’ll have nothing to sit on.

“I’m leaving you the bed, dude. Don’t be so whiny,” Dean says as he passes by Benny with an end of the couch in his hands, Cas on the other side.

“Wouldn’t want that cesspool of disease, anyway!” Gabe chimes, carrying the chair with Sam. Benny starts to stand but Uri gives him a stern look, and he sits and boils silently.

In the hallway, Dean yells out, “Pivot! Pivot!” like Ross from an episode of _Friends_ , and they both start laughing so hard they have to rest their ends of the couch on the stairs until they collect themselves. Dean smiles softly across the piece of furniture at the man whose generosity of spirit has given Dean so many precious gifts over the last few weeks: renewed confidence, fun, and now, freedom. Cas peeks over the edge of the arm and smiles back. Dean attributes the deep breath and the flush creeping into Cas’ cheeks to exertion.

They head back into the apartment for the last few items. It looks barren, even though Dean is leaving him a handful of things, including the bed. Cas helps Sam carry out a dresser, and Dean tosses the last few items by the door. As the men take a breather, he stares at Benny. “You guys mind giving us a minute?” Dean asks Gabe and Uri. They leave without a word, but the door they leave partially open and their presence just outside of it is enough to tell Dean they have his back.

“Baby…”

“No, Benny. I’m gonna talk and you’re gonna listen.”

“But baby…”

“I am _not_ your baby, so shut your trap. I’m done listening to you.” He looms over Benny and points his finger. “For six months I gave you everything I had. Six months. I thought we had something good. But you know what? We didn’t.”

“Aw, baby, of course we did…”

“No, and you know how I know? Because now that I’m not with you, I feel _good_ again. I’m seeing my friends and family. I’m working my job without your calls to interrupt me. I’m not worrying about what your mood’s gonna be like when I see you. _If_ I see you. I remember what _I_ want, what I _deserve_ to have. And I’m finding people who treat me like an equal, people who think that what I want is as important as what they want. I finally know what a healthy relationship can be.” He takes a deep breath and leans into Benny’s face. “I didn’t deserve the scraps you gave me, Benny. I was good to you and you treated me like crap. I deserve better. I _have_ better. I don’t need you and I don’t want you. Lose my number.”

Turning his back on his ex, Dean pulls the cracked-open door wider and sees that Sam and Cas have joined Gabe and Uriel in the hallway. He hands Gabe and Sam the last couple of boxes. They head downstairs as Cas and Uriel stand in the doorway waiting for Dean.

Benny looks like a man making a last-ditch effort to cling to the edge of a cliff. “Fine. Go. I don’t need you, you fuckin’ pansy-ass pretty boy. I got plenty of real men to fuck.” He looks past Dean at Cas. Dean huffs and looks over his shoulder at Cas, who’s scowling.

“That’s the problem with you, A.B.,” Cas says, wrapping an arm around Dean’s waist, “you have plenty of guys to poke with that tiny excuse of a pecker, but you don’t have the best. Not anymore.” He squeezes Dean’s hip, warming him to the core with his devotion and regard.

“And you never will,” Dean adds, curling his fingers around Cas’ hipbone and pulling him closer, hoping that Cas knows it’s him he’s talking about. An evil little thought pops into Dean’s mind. “You know, C.J.,” he says, still looking at Benny but speaking to Cas, “we really shouldn’t call him A.B. when he’s technically my ex-boyfriend.”

Cas takes his cue and squints at Benny. “Should we call him A.E. then? Asshole Ex?”

“Let’s just shorten it to Asshole,” Dean says, and Cas grins and tugs him into a side-hug. The tiny gesture feels better than anything A.E. ever gave him. “Let’s carry on with our evening, shall we?”

“Mmm, let’s,” Cas murmurs, his sultry growl and seductive eyes directed at Dean. A moment passes between them, hot yet light with the weight of Dean’s ex left behind them, and then Dean leads them out of the apartment, Uri following and Benny gaping in their wake.

They meet up at Sam’s and unload most of the items into Sam’s garage. Jess greets Cas excitedly and pulls him aside, and the others gather in a group around them drinking water and listening intently. He’s not sure what they’re discussing, but Jess looks awed and Cas looks uncomfortable with the attention.

Dean and Cas don’t dawdle at Jess and Sam’s, since they still have things to bring to Dean’s and they have to work tomorrow. By the time they finish unloading Dean’s things from Cas’ car, it’s late and they are exhausted. Standing in the parking lot of the Roadhouse, leaning against his car, Dean rocks on his heels while Cas fiddles with his keys.

“So, uh, I’m…”

“If you’re going to apologize, don’t,” Cas warns. “It was my idea.” He arches a brow at Dean, daring him to say more. _Caught_. Dean flashes him an embarrassed grin before staring at his feet again.

“Thank you,” Dean says after a couple of minutes of awkwardness and glancing surreptitiously at each other.

“You’re welcome, Dean.”

“So, uh, I’ll call you? Or you can call me, about, you know,” he rolls his hand to prompt Cas to fill in the rest of his sentence.

“About fucking me?” Cas asks with amusement behind his serious, innocent face.

“Jesus.”

“No, I’m Cas.”

“Ha ha.” Despite the joke not being particularly original or humorous, they both glance at each other and chuckle anyway. “So yeah, one of us can call. I mean, unless you wanna right now…” _Please say no, I can’t end it like this._

“Sorry, honey, I have a headache,” he jokes. Dean laughs, feeling light once again. “What are you doing this weekend?”

Dean shifts on his feet and rubs his neck nervously. He’s not sure how Cas will take the nerdy side of him. “Got a Ren Faire with Charlie,” he mumbles.

“I’ve done a few of those. They’re fun.”

Dean raises his brows in surprise. “You have?”

“Sure. I’ve done lots of things.”

“So I keep learning,” Dean grins. He gets excited that Cas shares this interest with him, and he thinks it would be fun to go together some time, maybe share a tent…and a sleeping bag... “Hey, maybe we…” he starts but then stops himself, remembering that they aren’t really friends. They’re “future temporary partners.” It hurts, but he finishes, “...ah, wait, nevermind.”

“What?”

Dean looks to his side, watching his toes kick at the dirt. He needs to think of something to say. “Just… was gonna ask if you wanted me to give Charlie your name and number. In case you wanna go to one sometime. She can hook you up.”

“Um, it’s been a while. I’ll think about it,” Cas says, looking away.

“Right,” Dean exhales harshly. “Well, I’ll let you get back home.”

“Yes. Talk to you soon.” He smiles at Dean, and Dean smiles back, but for the first time in their relationship, both of their smiles feel fake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work referenced in this chapter:  
> Friends, 1999, Season 5 Episode 16 “The One with the Cop”
> 
> For Cas’ POV, including his conversations with Gabe and Sam and his perspective and interaction with Benny, check out chapter 6 of “Just a One-Night Stand” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/13386972).


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabe is a brat.

The radio is loud over the whirring of automated lug wrenches and the guys bantering back and forth, but for the most part Dean can hear the morning show the guys insist on listening to. He’s never been crazy about the pop music, but he could always appreciate the humor of the hosts. Now that he’s met Zar and Gabe, though, his enthusiasm is a bit tempered, particularly since he’s not quite sure where he stands with Gabe. He’s elbows-deep in a 2005 Toyota Corolla when he hears Gabe talking about last night. Nearly banging his head on the hood, he straightens and runs into the waiting area, where he can hear the radio more clearly.

“...So my brother C.J. calls me… some of you out there remember him as my co-host eons ago. He’s the guy **that talks like this,** ” Gabe says, deepening his voice to imitate Cas’. Dean raises his brows. He’d had no idea Cas had been a DJ. “Anyway, so C.J. calls me and he says, ‘Listen, I need to borrow your truck, and if you can help too that would be great.’ So I’m like yeah, whatever, what’re we doing? And he says we’re going to help move so-and-so —let’s call him Hottie — out of an apartment, he only has a few things, yada yada. Now C.J. is supposed to be bangin’ a gong with this guy, alright? But instead they’re moving him out of his ex-boyfriend’s apartment.”

Dean groans and hides his face as he listens.

“Wait, so back up, Gabe,” Zar says. “What do you mean, ‘banging a gong’? Let’s define that for our audience.”

“Banging a gong, one-night stand, hooking up… I think they get the picture. So yeah, C.J. and Hottie were supposed to be hooking up last night ‘cause my brother is super bi....” One of them plays the chorus of N Sync’s “Bye Bye Bye” right on cue. “But instead they move him out of his ex’s apartment.”

“Well, that’s weird.”

“That’s not even the start of the weirdness, my friend.”

“It gets weirder?” Zar asks.

“Of course. So okay, C.J.’s a nice guy, this other guy’s a nice guy, whatevs. But you don’t usually help a one-night stand with their domestic stuff, right? That’s the beautiful thing about one-night stands - you don’t have to deal with the other one’s crap. You’re in and you’re out.”

“No pun intended,” Zar says drolly.

“Oh yeah, pun intended. Anyway, so listen closely, my friends, ‘cause here’s where it gets weird: see, C.J. and Hottie didn’t just meet last night.”

“Oh. So they’re friends.”

“You’d think so, but no. So let me finish. See, they met weeks ago, after this guy and the ex fell apart, and they were gonna hook up then.”

“So what happened?”

“So what happened was that C.J. still had a few brain cells working and figured out that they really should be tested first because they both had people cheat on them and they’re strangers, right?”

“Right.”

“Okay, well, most people would drop it there, but not C.J. and Hottie. Instead, they spent their evening doing God-knows-what because he wouldn’t tell me _and_ he spent the night, but they didn’t even sleep in the same bed and he swears they didn’t even kiss. And then get this, Zar.”

“What, Gabe?”

“They went to get tested together on the following Monday. How many hookups have you done that with? And through a series of unfortunate events neither of them could control, they haven’t been able to get it on. _But_ they’ve hung out, they text, they’ve eaten meals together…”

“Oh, so they’re not friends. They’re dating.”

“But they swear they’re _not_! Do you know they call each other ‘my future one-night stand’?”

“What? So they’re not ‘friends’ or ‘friends with benefits’ or…”

“No! Nothing logical like that!”

As Gabe continues talking and invites listeners to call in, Dean rubs his forehead, a headache forming behind it. He listens to callers for a few minutes before someone in the waiting room speaks.

“Quite the shitshow, eh?” a man sitting in one of the molded plastic chairs asks.

“Uh, yeah, but you know, I’m sure there’s more to the picture,” Dean tries to explain without giving too much away.

“I think it’s sweet,” the woman next to him coos. “I mean, what if they’re meant for each other and they had to go through all of that drama just to find each other?”

“Idiots, the both of ‘em. They’re clearly dating,” another man pipes up.

“They don’t want to date, according to them. Gotta be at least friends, though,” a second woman interjects.

“They need to just fuck and get it out of their systems. Just dragging it out, if you ask me,” the first guy says.

“Nobody asked you, Ron,” the woman next to him says.

Dean tunes them out and texts Cas. He doesn’t want him to be surprised.

_To Cas 8:29am: Dude, your brother is talking about us on the radio_

_To Dean 8:30am: I’m so sorry, Dean. I’ll call him immediately._

Well, he didn’t mean that Cas had to intervene.

_To Cas 8:31am: It’s okay, man, you don’t have to. Damage is done anyway._

He hopes the text will stop Cas, but it doesn’t. He listens in fascination as Cas comes on the radio. He definitely has a voice for radio, even if his face is more suitable for television.

“C.J.! How nice of you to call our humble little morning show!” Gabe says.

“And how rude of you to splatter my personal life onto the airwaves,” he says. Dean can’t help but smile fondly as he listens to him grumble.

“Give our listeners the scoop, alright? They’re really curious about this whole future one-night stand thing.”

“Gabe…”

“Really! They don’t understand how you guys aren’t dating. Most of them think this counts as dating.”

“I think both parties have to agree to that, and that is not our agreement.”

“But why make an agreement at all? Some people say this can’t count as a hookup because it’s not spontaneous.”

“Better a lack of spontaneity than ill-intended consequences,” Cas says and Dean nods along. “Now…”

“Some callers say that you guys are being really smart about it, and others say that you’re both only going to get hurt in the end.”

“Well, I…”

“And some people say you’re the bad guy here, stringing him along after his breakup. That one hurt, bro.”

Dean has thought about most of the things that the listeners have addressed, but he won’t stand for people accusing Cas of being a bad guy. No way. He looks up the number and calls the station.

“This is Zar, who’s this?” the blond answers.

“Zar, it’s Dean. Listen, that shit they’re sayin’ about Cas…”

“Dean! Hang on a second, we have C.J. on too. Turn down your radio so it doesn’t echo.” Before Dean can say another word, the sound drops back as if he’s on speakerphone. “Gabe, we have Hottie on the line!” Zar says with glee. Dean turns the volume down on the sound system.

“Hottie, you’re live on the air! We still have C.J. on, too!” Gabe calls.

“Hey Gabe, Zar,” Dean greets them with a bit of annoyance. “Hey C.J.,” he says softly, attempting to comfort him over the phone line.

“Hello D- uh, Hottie.”

The word sounds so strange coming out of Cas’ mouth that Dean throws himself back in his chair and laughs so hard it hurts. He hears Cas chuckling, the man’s sense of humor still intact despite the shitty situation.

“I like it, C.J. I think when we get together you should call me that,” Dean teases him.

“I think not,” he responds with an air of seriousness that makes Dean laugh again. _So damn cute. Damn it._

“Anyway,” Dean says when he settles. He calms himself into a more serious tone as he continues, “I just wanted to call and say, you know, that it upsets me to hear that people are giving Ca-... C.J. crap about this whole thing. I think it’s awesome the way he’s stuck with me. You know, unlike most one-night stands, this is really, you know, kind of liberating. He’s a genuinely nice guy with a huge heart and we’ve been really clear about what we agreed to do. How many people can say that about their sexual encounters?”

“So you agreed to this, why?” Zar asks.

“Because… well, I know people can’t see him ‘cause this is radio, but if you could see him, damn. He’s hot. Plus, I was going through a rough time and I just wanted to feel good and forget sh-... stuff, and it was the same for him, and we liked each other, so we said what the hell? We both wanted the same thing. I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend, and neither was he.”

“But C.J.’s not opposed to dating people,” Gabe points out. “I mean, he was dating before you. He enjoys being in a committed relationship. The whole one-night stand thing is really unusual for him.”

Dean pauses. He vaguely remembers Cas telling him the night they met that he wanted to date again, and at the time it didn’t seem like a big deal because he wasn’t ready for a boyfriend. Swore off dating, in fact. Now, though, thinking about Cas dating… hurts. He chose Dean as a hookup, not as a boyfriend. _Good enough to lay, not good enough to stay._ “Uh… well, yeah, I know, I’m just saying that’s… um, not our agreement.”

“So if he were to go on a date, that wouldn’t be breaking the agreement, right?” Gabe asks.

 _Ouch_. “Uh, well, no, I guess not…” Dean stammers. At the same time, a very pissed-off Cas says, “Gabriel! We are done here. I’m not dating anyone right now. Period.” Even though Dean has no right to dictate whether Cas dates anyone, hearing Cas say out loud that he isn’t makes the fist around his heart squeeze a little less tightly.

“I don’t understand what the problem is, C.J.. Hottie’s cool with it. Hey, we could take calls, set you up with a listener!”

“I’m hanging up now. Talk about your own pathetic life instead of mine,” Cas says furiously before disconnecting the call. Dean knows he’s upset, and it upsets him, too.

“Nice going, Gabe,” Dean sneers before he hangs up. He walks out of the waiting room and into the breakroom. It’s only then that he realizes he had that conversation in front of several customers. _Great_. He guzzles a glass of water, wishing it was something stronger, and texts Cas.

_To Cas 8:55am: Well that was fun_

_To Dean 8:56am: I am so sorry._

_To Cas 8:56am: Don’t worry about it_

_To Dean 8:57am: I do worry about it. It wasn’t right for Gabe to talk about us on the radio or to try to interfere._

Of course he worries about it. He closes his eyes against the rush of feelings that keeps washing over his heart lately, like the ocean over the rocks at high tide. He thinks again about Cas, this amazing man who could have anyone, staying with Dean. Maybe feeling trapped in their agreement. _Fuck._

_To Cas 9:00am: Don’t worry about it. Gabe has a big mouth but that’s not on you. And you can date whoever you want, you know._

Dean lays his head down on his arms. All he wants to do is forget the last 24 hours. He doesn’t want to think about losing Cas to someone else, even though he knows he’s only getting him for one night either way. His phone buzzing startles him.

_To Dean 9:04am: You know what I want?_

_To Cas 9:04am: What?_

Here it comes. This is when he tells him he really does want to date people and just couldn’t bring himself to tell Dean.

_To Dean 9:05am: I want to break a bed frame_

_To Dean 9:05am: With you ;)_

Oh. Well. He stares at his phone for a moment. The little winking face makes him think of Cas’ blue eyes and sexy smile when he winks… which makes him think about how Cas looked last night… which makes him think about their phone conversation and that toy...

_To Cas 9:06am: Dude, that is NOT fair_

_To Cas 9:06am: I’m at work_

_To Dean 9:07am: I’m not_

_To Dean 9:07am: In fact, I’m all alone at home and I’m feeling the need to get out some of my frustration with this day. Do you know how I can relieve my tension, Dean?_

Dean bites his lip as he reads the text message. _Damn it, you could’ve had that man’s body under you last night, you fucking idiot!_

_To Cas 9:09am: Fuck_

_To Cas 9:10am: You’re killing me Cas_

_To Dean 9:10am: Am I? Sounds like you need some tension relief, too. You could join me._

_Damn it, Cas_ , Dean thinks. As Cas flirts with him, the tension from the morning flees and he feels a different kind of tension taking over.

_To Cas 9:11am: I’m at work!_

_To Dean 9:11am: That’s too bad. :( Guess I’ll have to relieve this tension all by myself..._

_To Cas 9:12am: You. Are. Killing. Me._

_To Dean 9:13am: What do you suggest for tension relief?_

Dean guzzles a second glass of water and wipes his palm over his mouth. His go-to for tension relief has often been sex, but there’s _no way_ he’s suggesting that. Not when he’s at work and has to deal with his ever-growing hard-on. Thinking that maybe a change of scenery will help, Dean heads into the garage to dig into the Toyota. He sends Cas a text before resolving to leave his phone alone.

_To Cas 9:14am: Yoga, massage, shower… definitely NOT what you’re trying to make me think of right now_

Hearing the buzz of his phone again, he tries valiantly for fifteen seconds to resist. He’s never been good at keeping his resolutions.

_To Dean 9:18am: I love massages… hands all over me… showers… water making everything extra slick… yoga… do you know just how flexible I am?_

Dean remembers his pretzel move the morning after they met, and it does things to Dean’s mind and groin.

_To Cas 9:20am: Fuck Cas_

_To Dean 9:20am: That’s what I want you to do, yes_

Jesse clears his throat and nudges his chin toward the office, where Rufus is eyeing Dean.

_To Cas 9:21am: Fuck I gotta go. My boss keeps looking my way. Fuck you’re so hot. I can’t wait to get my hands on you._

_To Dean 9:22am: Okay, you get back to work. I’ll just be here at home, working off some tension, thinking of you working… hard…_

He reads the message and his dirty mind won’t let him ignore it. He keeps looking up to see if maybe Rufus has gone away, but he hasn’t. In fact, he walks toward Dean, who is panicking because he _knows_ he’s probably looking a bit obvious in his nether regions. He hides behind the Corolla.

“Dean. How’s the car coming?”

“Uh good, good. All good.” He gives Rufus one of his charming smiles, but the man merely frowns.

“Make sure it gets done today, son.” He stares at Dean for a long time before he grunts and turns on his heel. Dean releases his breath.

_To Cas 9:27am: Shit, he just came over to speak to me and I had to hide my bulge behind a car. Damn it. We need to make plans. Soon._

_To Dean 9:28am: I look forward to it. ;)_

Cas shows him mercy after that and stops texting, but the raging hard-on won’t go away. At the risk of Rufus’ wrath, he steps into the bathroom and locks the door. He heaves a sigh as he releases his erection from its confines. Tugging it loosely, he begins to think about Cas. He imagines the man in his backyard, his naked body spread out like Dean’s personal buffet. He lays his body on top of him, cock pressed against his ass as he traces every feather in the wings of his tattoo with his tongue. When he’s done, he turns him over so he can see Cas’ face. His gorgeous eyes, already so blue, reflect the sky as they gaze at Dean. He bites his plush lips when Dean mouths at his neck, then his nipples, then his cock, letting it hit his throat as he swallows him down. He works him open as Cas begs him for more, telling him how much he wants him, and when Dean pushes into his tight heat Dean comes hard into the tissue he is holding for that purpose. Breathless and flushed, he takes a few minutes to come down from his high. He imagines how Cas sounded after his orgasm and a blissed-out grin breaks out on his face. He wonders when he can see him again.

He’s nearly done the engine work on the Corolla when he hears his name over the intercom. Looking through the window into the waiting area and seeing Cas, he breaks into a huge smile. He’s smiling a lot more lately, he notices.

“Hey, Cas,” he grins, his eyes lighting up in surprise at the bags of lunch in Cas’ hands.

“Hello, Dean.”

“That’s Hottie to you,” he winks as he leads them to the breakroom.

“I’m concerned that you would want to be called that at your age,” Cas retorts, and Dean scowls at him good-naturedly.

“‘At my age,’ geez,” Dean mutters. “Siddown.” Despite the teasing, Dean feels infinitely calmer and more at ease in Cas’ presence.

The men sit and talk about anything except the events of the morning, and soon they are back to their usual repartee. During a lull in the conversation, Cas sighs heavily. Dean asks him what’s up.

“Uh, nothing much. Just thinking,” he says unconvincingly.

“About what?”

“About how much I want you,” he smiles coyly.

Dean scrutinizes him for a moment, knowing there must be more to it, but he drops it, figuring Cas will speak up when he’s ready. It’s not really his business, anyway; Cas’ detour into sex talk cements that. If he was his boyfriend it might be a different matter, but he’s not going to force Cas into talking if he doesn’t want to. “Yeah, thanks for that, by the way,” he says instead. “I had to go jerk off in the bathroom.” Cas laughs. Dean remembers something he said earlier about yoga and asks in a hushed voice, “Are you really that flexible? ‘Cause I’ll expect you to prove it when we get together.”

He leans toward Dean and says, with a wink, “Very, very flexible.” Dean groans and Cas chuckles as they continue eating in silence.

Dean thinks more about his flexibility, and the curiosity is killing him. “So, can you, you know…?” he asks after a few minutes as he’s collecting the wrappers and used napkins from the table.

“Are you referring to auto-fellatio?” Cas asks nonchalantly. Dean flushes at the thought and thinks he probably would’ve come even faster earlier today if he’d been jerking off to that.

“Uh, yeah,” he confirms as he turns toward the counter, moving the paper plates and the salt and pepper shakers to keep his hands busy. After a moment he feels Cas place his hands on either side of the counter, boxing him in.

“The answer is yes, I can,” he whispers, and he can feel those lips he fantasized about grazing his ear, “and if I can do that, think of what I can do with you.” He squeezes Dean’s hip briefly before backing off and Dean feels like he’s going to explode.

“I can cancel this Ren Faire thing this weekend,” Dean says, voice tremulous and low as he white-knuckles the counter.

“No, you go have fun. I’ll wait for you,” Cas says with obvious amusement, reaching out and grasping Dean’s forearm affectionately. Something about the words, about Cas trusting him and waiting for him, floods Dean’s heart once again, and he turns his hand up so that he’s grasping Cas’ arm in return. He fixes an intense gaze upon him, wanting to tell him how wonderful he is, how much he’ll miss him, and how he’s rethinking everything in his life because of him, including their agreement. But saying all that wouldn’t be fair to Cas. It’s not what he signed up for. So he licks his lips and flashes his megawatt smile, and he promises to slay a dragon in Cas’ honor.

“Well, aren’t you my knight in shining armor,” Cas teases as he picks up his phone from the table and slips it into his pocket. _I want to be, Cas. God, I want to be_ , he thinks anxiously before schooling his face back to his devilish smirk as Cas faces him.

“Uh, yeah, you know, slaying dragons for handsome men and buxom women. It’s what I do,” he says, hoping the remark won’t give away his anxiety at Cas finding himself another knight to slay his dragons and take him to dinner afterwards.

Cas eyes him curiously but gives him a shy smile and a wave goodbye before disappearing down the hall and out the door. When he’s out of sight, Dean leans against the wall and slides down it until he’s crouched on the floor, covering his face with his arms and breathing hard to keep himself from falling apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some drama’s coming in the next chapter...
> 
> For Cas’ POV, including what he was doing while he texted Dean naughty things, check out chapter 7 of “Just a One-Night Stand” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/13386972)
> 
> Song referenced in this chapter: “Bye Bye Bye” by N Sync


	8. Chapter 8

Dean feels recharged after the Renaissance Faire. It’s been a long time since he’s spent so much time with Charlie, and it felt great to be her handmaiden again. She grilled him for a while about Cas, but gave him his space when he told her he just needed time away from it. He has a lot of work to make up when he returns to the garage on Tuesday, so he can’t see Cas. To make up for it, he spends his time between work orders texting Cas about some of the things that happened at the Faire. And in between those texts, he texts him _other_ messages, because he really, _really_ missed him. He’s just not sure how to tell him, or if he should, given their relationship as nothing but future temporary partners.

He starts off with:

_To Cas 8:47am: Hey gorgeous… thinking about you_

It’s true, but it sounds like something a boyfriend would say, so a couple of minutes later he adds:

_To Cas 8:50am: Can’t wait to pound that hot ass of yours_

_To Dean 8:55am: Me too :)_

Dean’s not sure which text he’s responding to, but since it’s favorable either way, he continues in this way throughout the day:

_To Cas 12:41pm: Missed having lunch with you today_

_To Cas 12:42pm: I kept picturing you spread out like a feast across your desk_

_To Dean 12:44pm: So is that why you keep bringing me lunch? ;)_

_To Cas 6:20pm: Wish you were here_

_To Cas 6:21pm: We could Netflix and chill ;p_

_To Dean 6:30pm: We do enjoy watching Netflix, don’t we? :)_

_To Cas 8:13pm: Eating the worst microwave meal ever because I haven’t done groceries_

_To Cas 8:15pm: I’d much rather be eating you_

_To Dean 8:20pm: You should’ve mentioned it earlier. I could’ve dropped some groceries by._

_To Dean 8:20pm: Naked, of course. ;)_

The rest of the week is much the same as it usually is, only their texting is more explicit and their lunches involve more frequent touching of arms, shoulders, and backs. Between their clean test results, their almost-one-night-stand before going to the apartment, and finally putting all the shit about his ex behind them, it feels like the heat is ramping up between them. Dean feels it radiating off Cas — the way he looks at him, the way he speaks, the way he subtly invites him closer — and he knows his own desire is reflecting off Cas, adding to the thrilling sexual tension between them. It’s different, this tension Dean feels. Unlike his other hookups (or even his other longer-term relationships), the flame that was lit with the tinder of lust and raw need when they met has been stoked into a roaring fire by familiarity and weeks of flirting, a burning mass sustained by trust, humor, equality, and positive regard.

On Friday, the air conditioning is wonky and Dean is sweating under his coveralls, so when Cas arrives with lunch he’s already had to strip the coveralls off and now he’s filthy. He washes the grime from his hands and arms and leads Cas into the breakroom, trying not to brush his crisp, white linen shirt and tan linen pants with his greasy red t-shirt and jeans. “Fuckin’ ‘76 Chevy was kickin’ my ass,” Dean comments when they sit down with their sandwiches.

“It appears so,” Cas smirks, eyeing him appreciatively. “You’re quite… sweaty.”

Dean looks up and meets his eyes, catching Cas checking him out. “You like me sweaty, Cas?” he purrs seductively.

“I think I do,” he rumbles, his eyes locking with Dean’s.

The white linen shirt contrasts beautifully against Cas’ tanned skin, and his eyes sparkle like the sunlight reflecting off the sea. Dean swallows hard against the waves crashing over his heart again, ignoring them in favor of the greedy seagulls screaming “now, now, now” in his mind. He wants him, damn it.

“I think I’m gonna like you sweaty, too,” he winks.

He continues flirting shamelessly with Cas all through lunch. Just as he’s finishing a sip of water, Cas stares at him with a look that could melt diamonds and asks in a sultry baritone, “How about tonight, Dean? Do you want to fuck me tonight?” It’s so hot and so unexpected that Dean chokes on the water left in his throat, or maybe just on air.

“Fuck yes, Cas,” Dean rasps once he’s caught his breath. “Yes, I want you. You have no idea.” They make a plan.

The rest of the day, Dean thinks about their night. He wants to make it special somehow — just because Cas has done so much for him, _not_ because this is their last time together and _not_ because it’s a _date_ because Dean has sworn off dating and Cas doesn’t want that with him, anyway. Maybe they could grab supper first? Not as a date, but just because they’re two people who need to eat. Keep up their strength and all. Just before 5:00, Dean calls Cas.

“So, uh, I know we’re getting together at 8:00 at your place, but uh, I was just wonderin’ if you maybe wanna have supper together first? I don’t know if you’ve eaten or not, or if you had anything else you had to do before we got together, but I’m starving and there’s that new seafood place you mentioned…”

“Sure. I had nothing planned… other than, you know, _prep_ ,” he says casually, nearly making him choke for the second time today.

“Such a cocktease,” Dean mutters, but can’t help smiling anyway.

Once Dean blows out of work, he rushes home, where Sam and Jessica are waiting for him.

“What’s the emergency?” Sam asks.

“It’s not an emergency, I just need your help and I’m short on time,” he explains. “And I don’t need your help, I need Jess’.” He starts stripping his grungy clothes off behind the screen. “Jess, find me something that’s suitable to wear at La Mer,” he barks at her as he emerges in his boxers. “Something that’s not date clothes, but something nice.”

“Uh, I don’t know, Dean, you don’t have much to work with,” she frowns.

“I know, I know, just… find something!” he pleads as he slams the bathroom door, not hearing their questions.

Twenty-five minutes later, he emerges, clean-shaven and hopeful. “Find something?” he asks his sister-in-law.

“I think so,” she says, handing him a green dress shirt and ivory dress pants he once wore to a wedding. He hopes they still fit.

“So who’s this not-date with?” Sam asks from the couch, wisely choosing to stay out of Dean’s frenetic path.

“Cas and I are going out to supper,” he calls from behind the screen. He buttons the pants that still, blessedly, fit.

“Do you always dress up for Cas?” Dean can hear his brother’s smirk.

“No, smartass,” he says, buttoning the shirt. “Tonight’s our… thing.” He looks around his floor for dress shoes, though he hasn’t worn them in months.

“Like a date?” Jess squeals.

“No, like two sexual partners eating something, followed by sex,” he mutters. He opens the tiny closet and finds his shoes, then turns and catches their look toward each other. “What?”

“Nothing,” they say in unison. It’s a bit annoying the way they do that.

“It’s not a big deal,” he says, finishing with his shoes and looking in the mirror. “So? How do I look?”

Getting approval from his brother and sister-in-law, Dean heads out and hits Friday traffic. He arrives at the restaurant at 6:30, cursing himself for not arriving earlier. He wanted to have a chance to just sit in his Baby and calm his fraying nerves, but as he pulls into the lot, he sees Cas standing in front of the restaurant, the sun soaking him in a golden light that makes him look ethereal. Dean gulps down his anxious energy and gets out of the car, forcing his feet forward. As he approaches, he appreciates the way his dressy, stylish clothes hug his body and the way his dark brown waves frame his stubbled, sun-kissed face. For tonight, this gorgeous man is all his. And then he isn’t. He shakes off the thought as he reaches his one-night stand.

“Hey Cas,” Dean greets him softly.

“Hey Dean,” he responds, his voice low and intimate. Dean watches Cas look him over, and it gives him a chance to appreciate the man up close. He’s beautiful in a way that surpasses his physical features. “You look…” Cas pauses, something passing over his face so quickly that Dean can’t read it, “so fucking hot. You’re making me _very hungry_.”

It sounds odd, almost put-on, but he knows Cas wanted this tonight so Dean chalks it up to nervousness and plays along. “You know, if I didn’t need the energy, I would take you home right now,” Dean purrs, raking his eyes over Cas. “So, let’s not delay, hmm?” He gestures toward the door with his hand and opens it, allowing Cas to step in ahead of him.

The conversation feels a bit awkward at first, both of them hyper-aware of what’s to come… and what will come after that. But with the appetizers (oysters and a salad for Cas, bruschetta and shrimp cocktail for Dean) comes their familiar banter, and they forget to be nervous. They take their time, spending close to three hours simply talking and enjoying the rich, satisfying meal. When they’ve each paid for their own meals, they leave together and linger in the parking lot.

“So I’ll follow you, okay?” Dean says as they’re about to part.

“Would you follow me anywhere?” Cas asks in a falsetto, fluttering his eyelashes exaggeratedly. Dean laughs.

“Hell yeah, I would,” he says easily, the words falling out of his mouth without permission. He clears his throat and waves his hand. “I mean, look at you,” he continues with a leer he’s perfected over several years of bar hookups (which is technically what Cas is, he reminds himself, so it’s appropriate).

“I’ll see you there,” he rumbles as he encircles Dean’s wrist in his hand and pulls him close. His citrus cologne tickles his nose, but Dean barely notices it over the feel of Cas’ lips whispering, “Don’t be late” over his own. His rapidly beating heart forces his breath to stutter, so he nods and turns away before it betrays him completely.

He’s following Cas when he suddenly pulls into a gas station. Dean misses the turn, so he turns around in the next lot and pulls into the lot next to his car to wait for him. _Must be getting supplies_ , he reasons. A few minutes later Cas walks out, looking a bit pale. He rolls down his window, frowning.

“You alright?” Dean asks.

“Yes, sorry. I’m fine. Just, uh, needed to make a quick stop.” He lifts a bottle of water. “I’ll see you at home.” Dean nods and rolls the window up. He wonders if maybe Cas is as nervous as he is.

Following Cas once again, he’s drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to a Zep song when Cas speeds up. He hadn’t taken him for a speed demon. He chuckles to himself as he starts to speed up a bit, but he loses him at a red light. He shrugs to himself. It’s not as if he doesn’t know the way to his place. He takes his time and tries to will away his nerves by thinking of Cas naked. Yeah, that helps. He parks next to Cas in the driveway and knocks. No answer. He knocks again. No answer. Frowning, he tries the doorknob. It opens, so he walks inside.

“Cas?” He looks around and sees Cas’ shoes and jacket thrown to the floor, along with his phone, wallet and keys. He didn’t think Cas was _that_ desperate to be fucked. He hears something in the direction of the bathroom and walks down the hall. “Cas?”

“I think… I have to… reschedule,” Cas calls weakly. Dean hears splashing and groaning even with the vent fan on.

“Cas? Open up.”

Cas refuses, and Dean hears the telltale sounds of violent illness. He knocks insistently. “C’mon, Cas, let me in.”

“No!”

“Cas…”

He’s pretty sure Cas vomits, and now Dean is scared. Despite Cas’ protests, he tries the doorknob, but it’s locked. _Damn it_. “Cas, seriously. I know how to pick a lock, man. Let me in so I can help you.”

“I don’t… need… help,” Cas says, but his labored breathing is not convincing Dean otherwise. “Please… I can… take care… of myself.” Dean stands helplessly against the doorframe as Cas gets sick again. The toilet flushes and there’s quiet for a couple of minutes, which is even worse in a way. He looks through the crack under the door but can’t see anything. Cas empties himself again and then moans pitifully. Dean worries his lip between his teeth.

“Cas, man…”

“I’m fine!” he mewls.

He’s clearly not fine, and it breaks Dean’s heart that he won’t let him help, especially after all the help Cas has given him. He wonders if Cas is too embarrassed. He knows how that feels. Not knowing what else to do, he tries to make a joke to calm his worry and to try to let Cas know somehow that he doesn’t need to be embarrassed, not with Dean.

“You know, if the thought of being with me is making you sick, all you had to do was say so,” he speaks through the door with a little smirk. Hoping for a tiny huff of laughter or at least one of Cas’ sarcastic comebacks, he is horrified to hear Cas start to cry. _Shit_. Cas’ sobbing makes him want to cry, too.

“Oh Cas, no no no, I’m sorry, it was a joke,” Dean calls gently through the door, hands and cheek pressed against the panels. “I do that when I’m… fuck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He cries harder but says nothing, and Dean feels his own tears dripping off his chin. “It’s okay, Cas, it’s okay, shhh,” he coos through the door to the ill man, keeping up the litany for several minutes between the groaning and the splashing of the toilet water. He begs him again to let him in, but Cas doesn’t answer. Dean glances at his phone and notices he’s been sick for some time without any end, and he makes a decision.

Remembering Cas’ phone on the floor, Dean thanks God that he’d once seen Cas key in his passcode (Dean had laughed at “1234” but Cas said he looks at numbers so much he wanted something simple) and he calls Gabe.

“C.J.! Don’t tell me you and Hottie are done _already_! I knew it had been a while but…”

“Gabe, it’s Dean,” he interrupts him swiftly. “Cas is sick. You need to come over. Now. He’s not letting me into the bathroom and…” he hears Cas vomit and a wave of fresh anxiety makes his voice crack, “I’m worried. Please just… hurry, alright?”

“On my way,” Gabe says before hanging up.

“It’s gonna be okay, Cas,” he reassures the man, his groaning Dean’s only assurance that he’s still conscious. Dean rests his head on the door and waits.

“Dean!” Gabe calls down the hall a few minutes later.

“Gabe, over here,” he responds. Gabe hurries to the bathroom door and Dean explains what’s been happening since they arrived at the house. Gabe nods and calls to Cas, but he doesn’t answer.

“Get me something to pick the lock with,” Dean commands. Gabe returns a moment later with a small tool kit from Cas’ junk drawer.

“Why didn’t you do this earlier?” Gabe asks as Dean picks the lock.

“He didn’t want me to come in,” Dean explains as he opens the door. The men see Cas sprawled on the floor, clothes heaped in a pile and vomit puddled near his face. The bathroom reeks of waste. Dean feels awful that he didn’t break in here earlier. “Shit,” he murmurs brokenly. Gabe pats his arm and points to Cas, asking him to help him lift the man up.

“Come on, there, big boy, we gotta go,” Gabe tells Cas. They each take him under an arm and stand him up. “Gotta get you dressed a bit more than you are. Let’s go out here.” They try to get him to walk but his legs are too weak. His body jolts and Dean gives Gabe a quick look. Understanding him, the men turn Cas around in time for him to vomit in the bathtub.

“Let me grab him something to wear. We gotta take him in,” Gabe murmurs. When he returns, Dean wraps his arms around Cas, supporting all his weight while Gabe shimmies a pair of sleep pants up his legs and a bathrobe around his shoulders.

“Gonna be okay for the ride to the ER or do we have to call an ambulance?” Gabe asks Cas as they drag him out of the bathroom. He mumbles some sort of protest, then drops his head onto Dean’s shoulder. His shoulder burns where Cas’ temple touches it.

“He’s got a fever, I think,” Dean says to Gabe. Just as they get into the living room, Cas gags and Gabe shoves the small trash can he brought from the bathroom under his brother’s face. Dean fights to keep him on his feet as he vomits; he rests him gently on his knees for a moment until Cas has recovered, then they pull him back up.

“Come on, Cas, we’ve got you. We’re going for a ride,” Dean murmurs near his burning forehead. Cas nods briefly before his eyes roll back and he passes out.

“Shit,” Gabe mutters as they bear his full weight.

“I’ve got him,” Dean says. He cradles him in his arms and carries him to the Impala, laying him gently in the backseat. He runs a hand through his dampened hair, which is curling at the ends and sticking to his forehead. “It’ll be okay, Cas, we got you,” he whispers, as much for himself as for the man who probably can’t hear him. He backs out of the car and sees Gabe waiting for him to move out of the way so he can slide in the backseat next to Cas.

“He’ll be okay, Dean,” Gabe says, clapping a hand to his shoulder before ducking into the car.

Dean feels like he’s underwater; sounds are muffled, everything is soft around the edges, and his limbs feel heavy as he slogs through the hallways and into the emergency department, where Cas is whisked into a room and they hook him up to an IV and monitors that beep incessantly. The nurse checks him over and asks Dean what happened. He gives her a rundown of their evening, his voice sounding hollow and echoey to his ears, and when she leaves he steps back and leans against the wall, staring into space while Gabe pulls the only chair up to Cas’ bed. A phlebotomist comes by and takes blood and the nurse comes by and puts an antiemetic in his bag. When the doctor comes, she looks him over and Dean repeats the story. She says she suspects food poisoning, probably from the lettuce but possibly from the oysters. Dean feels his chest ease a bit. Food poisoning doesn’t usually kill you. Usually. She says she’ll prescribe antibiotics and that she’ll be back when he wakes. The nurse comes by and puts antibiotics in Cas’ bag. When she leaves, Dean and Gabe are left in silence save for the machines.

“Come over here, man,” Gabe says as he waves him over and stands up. “Sit. You’re worried.”

“I’m not worr…”

“Yeah, you are. Sit. Besides, I’m sure my brother would rather see your handsome face when he wakes up than my ugly mug,” he jokes. Dean takes him up on his offer and sits, staring at Cas as if he’ll wake up by Dean’s sheer desire for him to do so. “You like him, huh?”

“Of course I like him,” Dean answers without taking his eyes off Cas.

“I mean you _like_ him,” he says gently. Dean doesn’t answer, and Gabe lets him be.

Cas starts stirring around 2:00 a.m. Dean sits forward, hoping his eyes aren’t playing tricks on him in the late hour. Cas flutters his eyes, smacks his lips, and groans.

“Hey, Handsome,” Dean whispers.

Cas huffs. “You’ve got to be kidding,” he replies, and Dean grins, relieved that Cas’ smartass humor has returned.

“Nah. You’re still handsome,” Dean assures him before Gabe pipes up, “You look like you were tied to a car and dragged down a rutted dirt road while hyenas chased you.” Dean glares at him.

“That’s an odd yet apt description of how I feel,” Cas rasps. Dean pours him a cup of water from a pink plastic-and-styrofoam pitcher near his elbow. Cas takes a few tentative sips, then gulps it down before resting back on his pillow. “I’m so sorry I ruined our evening,” Cas murmurs as he turns his head toward Dean.

Dean looks at him incredulously. “Hey, it’s not your fault, man.”

“I’m so embarrassed…”

“Oh yeah, you should’ve seen yourself,” Gabe comments. “Hell, most hookups woulda run away as fast as their legs could take ‘em, but Hottie called me and then he picked the lock and helped me haul your ass outta there and get you here.” Dean wonders where the nice guy who called him by his real name went. When Cas asks if he came into the bathroom, Gabe crows, “Oh yeah he did, and it wasn’t pretty…” and Dean now wonders how he can kill him and get away with it.

“Gabe, shut the fuck up, would you?” Dean growls. “He was _sick_. He had fuckin’ food poisoning!”

“...and he stuck around anyway,” Gabe finishes, continuing as if Dean never spoke.

“Oh my God,” Cas groans, hiding his face in his hands. “I’m just…”

“Shh,” Dean comforts him, threading his fingers tenderly through Cas’ hair. Cas closes his eyes and leans into the touch, and Dean feels himself relax for the first time in hours. “Just rest, okay? They gave you something for the nausea and you’ve got some fluids and antibiotics in your IV. You’ll be good to go before you know it.”

A couple of hours later, after a check by the doctor and what felt like an eternity waiting on the discharge paperwork and his antibiotics prescription to be filled, they leave the hospital. It’s still dark, but the sky is hinting at the impending dawn. They drive back to Cas’ and both men help Cas into the house and into bed. Dean notices him looking around, flushing in embarrassment, but he says nothing so Dean stays quiet. They tuck him into bed, an empty trash can by his side in case the vomiting returns.

“I’ll stay with him. Go get some sleep,” Gabe says as they close the door to the bedroom. Dean wants to argue, wants to stay, but it’s not really his place to do either, so he just nods.

“Alright, but I’ll be back first thing,” he says. “Just gonna check on him before I leave.” He ducks back into the bedroom, where he hears Cas’ even breathing. He’s pretty sure he’s asleep, so instead of waking him to let him know he’s leaving he simply presses a kiss against the top of his head.

Dean only gets about three hours of sleep before his racing mind makes him get up. He makes some coffee before heading to Cas’, knowing he’ll need it. A haggard-looking Gabe opens the door with bleary eyes.

“Dean,” he greets him without a hint of surprise despite his early reappearance. He opens the door wide and lets him inside.

“I cleaned up the worst of it,” Gabe says as Dean walks into the bathroom. Dean nods and collects the dirty clothing and towels Gabe had tossed into a corner and takes them to the laundry room, throwing them into the washing machine. Anna arrives shortly after and helps them pick up the living room and air out the house. She offers to make a light lunch since it’s nearly noon by the time they finish. About three-quarters of the way through lunch, Cas emerges from the bedroom, wearing his bathrobe and slippers and leaning heavily against the door frame.

“Hey Castiel,” Anna says as she stands. The two men behind her are faster, though, and they catch Cas’ arms as he releases the door frame.

“Careful, kiddo,” Gabe cautions him as Dean says, “Hey, Cas, let us help you, okay?”

Cas looks at Dean with confusion. “You’re here,” he says. Dean’s not sure how much he remembers from last night.

“I am. Come on, let’s sit.” They take him to the table and gently lower him to a chair.

“How are you feeling?” his sister asks as she cards her fingers through his hair, making Dean yearn to do the same.

“Like hell,” Cas answers.

“Do you want some soup? Toast?”

“I don’t want to see food ever again.”

The three chuckle as Cas rests his chin in his hand. Anna pushes his pills and a cup of water toward him, and he takes them without comment.

“Well, you have a little bit of color back, anyway. You scared us, bud,” Gabe says. “I thought Hottie was gonna break down the door.”

Dean remembers the fear he felt last night. “If he’d gone quiet for too long, I would have.”

“You should try to eat something, Castiel. You have nothing in you,” Anna urges him.

“Right now, I prefer it that way.” He refuses to eat and insists on being alone, then shuffles back to bed.

“He’s never liked a lot of attention when he’s sick,” Anna explains.

“He’s embarrassed,” Gabe says.

“He doesn’t have to be,” Dean says, even though he understands all too well.

“Yeah, I know, but would you want to lose your lunch every which way in front of your hookup?” Dean huffs and rubs his forehead. _Been there, done that_.

“Let’s leave him alone to pout for now. He’ll get over it. But Hottie,” he says with an edge to his voice, “if this freaks you out, let him down gently, huh?”

“What?” Dean whisper-shouts so he doesn’t bother Cas. “I wouldn’t turn on him like that! What kind of asshole do you think I am?” He locks his indignant eyes with Gabe’s defiant, challenging ones. Inexplicably, Gabe breaks into a smile.

“Just checking, _Dean_ ,” he says. Dean, dizzied by Gabe’s swift changes in mood, gives him a confused glance before he leaves.

Several hours and one nap later, Dean heads back to Cas’ with his laptop and some tea that Sam had recommended. He knocks but gets no answer. He tries again. With no answer again, Dean panics and tries the door. Finding it unlocked, he walks inside, hoping that Cas just didn’t hear him and not that he’s violently ill again.

“Hey,” he says with relief when he sees Cas. “Brought you some ginger tea. Sam told me it’s good for nausea.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

Dean shuffles his feet. “Uh, sorry for just walking in, but I knocked a couple of times and you didn’t come to the door. I was worr… I, uh, wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m sorry. Sometimes with the TV on I can’t hear if anyone is at the door.”

“No problem. So, uh, did you want this, or…?”

“Oh, yes. My mind isn’t working all that well. Come sit.” He smiles, small and tired, at Dean, and Dean smiles back with enough joy for the both of them.

They sit at the table for a bit, and Dean shows him the cinnamon vanilla tea he’s drinking. “Wasn’t sure if the smell of coffee would make you sick,” he explains. “Makes me sick when I’m sick, so… you know, just figured I’d not make things worse for you.”

“Thank you, Dean,” he smiles again. Dean could stare at that smile for hours, but it disappears and is eventually replaced with a grimace. “Um, Dean, I just wanted to let you know that if this incident turns you off, I understand and I won’t hold it against you if you want to drop our agreement.”

Dean is as incredulous as he was when Gabe suggested it, though less angry. “Seriously? That’d be pretty lame of me.”

“Well, seeing people at their worst is not really an aphrodisiac.”

“I don’t need an aphrodisiac to want you,” Dean smirks as he taps Cas’ cup with his own. Cas shakes his head as a tiny smile sneaks onto his face. Dean is proud of himself for putting it back there.

“I’m just saying…”

“Listen, I know you’re embarrassed, but you don't need to be, I promise. You’re still fuckin’ hot and I still want to pound your ass. Maybe when you’re feeling better, though. Want you to enjoy it,” he winks. Cas’ smile grows wider, and Dean sighs and makes a decision. He nudges him until he looks up and meets his eyes.

“Cas, I trust you, so I’m gonna tell you something I’ve never told anyone else. But you take this with you to your grave, alright?” Cas nods. “Okay, so this one time I was visiting Sam at college and I was going home with this guy. We’re heading to his place, and all of a sudden I feel sick. Like, seriously ill, just out of nowhere. I feel like something bad is gonna happen. I tell the guy to pull over but he thinks I’m joking or something, until I pull a plastic bag off the floor of his car that I think is a trash bag and I puke into it.”

Cas cringes in empathy. “Oh no…”

“Oh, I’m not done. So while I’m puking, I’m losing control everywhere else. I’m a fuckin’ disaster, Cas. When the puking stops my gut is still killing me, and now I realize I’m sitting in something.”

“Oh… oh no, Dean…”

“Oh yeah. I fuckin’ shit my pants in this guy’s fuckin’ Neon. Couldn’t control it. So now I’m hoping the guy doesn’t notice, but of course he does, ‘cause you can’t hide that in a fuckin’ tiny car. He pulls over and yells at me, tells me I gotta get out. So I got out and threw him a few bucks for, you know, cleaning, and I followed those blue hospital signs until I found it. Turns out I had the stomach flu.”

“Oh Dean,” Cas says, his fingers grazing Dean’s arm, “That’s horrible.”

“Fucking embarrassing is what it was.”

“But it wasn’t your fault. You were ill. That man should’ve never left you alone. What a horrible human being.” Cas looks at him with such care that Dean doesn’t feel ashamed for sharing this secret with him.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I think his pot stash was in that bag, and the smell probably never came out of those fabric seats.”

Cas snickers and offers his hand for a high five to Dean, who slaps it.

“Neon’s a shitty car, anyway,” Cas comments, making Dean laugh heartily. Smartass Cas.

“So see, Cas? It could always be worse.”

“I guess it could,” he agrees. The men smile at each other over their cups for some time before Cas says, “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“My pleasure, Cas,” Dean says, resting his hand atop Cas’ fingers, relishing the feel of his hand under his own.

Cas smirks with a twinkle in his eye, “I’ll be very happy to give you pleasure, Dean.”

Dean can’t help but smile at Cas’ ridiculousness. “Mmm, looking forward to it,” he purrs, and he is, having lost no interest at all in the man. “In the meantime, wanna watch a movie? Brought the laptop in case you didn’t have a player in your room.”

“My room?”

“Uh…” _Stupid, Winchester, stupid! Now he’ll think you just want sex!_ “...or the living room, whatever. I was just thinking in case you wanted to lay down…”

“That sounds great, Dean,” he smiles, calming Dean’s mind.

Dean hovers behind Cas, making sure he is steady on his feet. They settle on Cas’ bed, Cas under the covers and Dean on top, and watch _The Shawshank Redemption_ , which they’ve both seen a hundred times but still love. Dean is very careful to keep his hands to himself. Toward the end, Cas keeps drifting sleepily toward his shoulder, the fatigue of his illness catching up to him. He keeps startling himself awake, and Dean has to keep straightening up in order to keep himself from leaning in and letting Cas fall asleep on him. If that happens, Dean will never want to leave. “Okay, sleepyhead, time for bed,” he says when he starts to feel a little too comfortable. He makes sure Cas has water and his medications by his bed before turning off the light.

“Good night, Cas. I’ll call you tomorrow,” Dean whispers even though they’re the only two in the house. He’s reluctant to leave, but he knows he’ll have to break the bond eventually, so he heads out to sleep in his cold, Cas-less bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, poor Cas (and Dean)!
> 
> For Cas’ POV, including his chat with Gabriel and what was going through his mind when he was sick, check out chapter 8 of “Just a One-Night Stand” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/13386972).


	9. Chapter 9

Dean texts Cas on Sunday to check on him and finds out he’s going to stay home from work on Monday. He also makes a huge blunder while they were texting, basically telling the guy he’s amazing. He tries to recover with another text as best as he can, but he’s not sure if Cas buys it or not. Thankfully, Cas gives him a pass ( _and a compliment, ugh, the man has to stop being so perfect_ ) and they joke around before Dean lets him rest. The fact that Cas still isn’t eating sticks with Dean, though, and he hopes things will improve on Monday.

On Monday, he checks in and finds out Cas is going to go to work on Tuesday, but still isn’t eating. Without thinking much about it, he calls his mom to ask a favor, knowing she’ll be out of work early today. She agrees without question, and after work he drops by their house to pick up the item he requested.

“Hi sweetheart! Come in!” his mother, Mary, greets him as she ushers him inside his childhood home.

“Hey Mom,” he smiles. There’s comfort in being at home, especially with the smell of soup in the air. “Smells great.”

“Thank you, sweetie. I have a big batch set aside for you like you asked, and I made extra to eat tonight. Come sit!” Dean, never one to turn down his mom’s soup, agrees.

“Hey kiddo,” Dean’s father, John, says as he sits at the table. He points at the soup and asks, “You not feeling well?”

“Uh, no, I’m fine,” Dean stammers, realizing it’s a little unusual for him to ask his mom to make him soup at his age, especially when he’s not sick. “It’s for...someone I know.”

“Ah. Who’s that?”

“Uh, his name is Cas,” Dean mumbles.

“Oh, it’s _Cas_ ,” his father snickers. His mother swats him playfully.

“Stop teasing him,” she chides. Dean looks between them in horror. He hadn’t told them about Cas.

“How do you know about Cas?”

“Oh, Sam and Jess told us,” his mother smiles. Dean has no idea what they told them. He decides to play it cool.

“Oh. Okay.” He shoves soup in his mouth, wincing at the heat but preferring it to the heat reddening his ears.

“How long have you been seeing him?” John asks. Dean’s spoon clatters to the floor and he rushes to pick it up, invoking the five second rule as he wipes it with his napkin.

“I’m not,” he says quickly. They frown simultaneously.

“Our mistake,” Mary says slowly. “The way Sam and Jess described you two, I just… assumed, I guess.”

“Why does everyone assume that I’m just gonna jump into another relationship? Do you all think I’m that needy? Jesus, I’ve had too many of ‘em crash and burn. I don’t want another relationship,” Dean huffs, trying to convince himself as much as his parents.

“That’s… that’s not what we meant, sweetie,” Mary says, holding her gaze steady.

“Sam said you helped him when he got sick over the weekend,” John comments calmly.

“Well yeah, I’m not a jerk…”

“And that you’ve been spending a lot of time together…”

“It’s not like that…”

“And that you were on a date before he got sick.”

“We were _not_!” Dean shouts in exasperation. “He’s just… a guy I know. I mean, we’re not even _friends_ , exactly…”. Dean realizes too late that he should’ve stopped talking.

“What do you mean?” Mary asks.

“Nothing. It’s nothing, just… it’s hard to explain.”

“Are you ‘friends with benefits’?” his mother asks. Dean’s father snorts in amusement.

“No! Mom, God, I _don’t_ want to discuss sex with you!”

“I’m just trying to understand, honey. Jess and Sam made it sound like you were quite taken with this man…”

“I… No, it’s not… that.” He stands and busies himself with clearing his bowl and glass so he doesn’t have to see the way his parents are looking at him. “I gotta run, I’m sorry.” He tucks the large plastic container of soup under his arm. “Thank you for making this, Mom, I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.” He gives them each a quick hug before running out the door, overwhelmed by the insinuations everyone seems to be making. He wishes they would stop.

On Tuesday, Cas’ first day back at work, Dean pops in at lunchtime. Jo gives him a look that says she wants to talk, but Dean ignores her and walks into Cas’ office. Cas still looks pale and fatigued.

“How’re you feelin’?” Dean asks. He wants to smooth Cas’ hair out of his tired eyes, but refrains.

“A bit more human,” Cas says. “I’m tired. I’m forcing myself to at least have toast and applesauce, but I still really don’t want to eat.”

“Yeah, well, see what you get for eating salad? That shit’ll kill you.”

“Do you really think it was the salad? I would’ve guessed the oysters.”

“Could’ve been, but the doctor thought the salad was just as likely. Food poisoning from lettuce is pretty common, she said.”

“Well, that’ll teach me. Only fried food for both of us from here on out.” He winks and Dean can feel the blush alighting on his cheeks. He feels unsettled after yesterday’s conversation with his parents and Cas’ use of the word “us.”

“That’s the spirit!” he says with a light punch to Cas’ shoulder that screams _buddy_ instead of _future (sex) partner that’s confusing the hell out of me_. “Hey, you wanna try some soup? My mom made some and I had extra. Figured I’d bring it over.” It’s a little white lie, but he sure as hell isn't going to tell his one-night stand that he asked his mom to make him soup. He offers Cas the container of chicken and rice soup, hoping he doesn’t think of him as a weirdo. Cas smiles.

“Thank you. I’d like that.”

Dean steps out to warm the soup in the microwave, then brings it back and blows on it gently before offering the bowl to Cas.

“It’s delicious, Dean,” Cas compliments after taking a few sips. “Thank you for sharing it with me. I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to keep all of it for yourself.”

“Nah,” he says. “Figured you’d need something to get you back on your feet. My mom’s soup always helped me.”

“Well, I can appreciate the magic of a parent’s homemade soup. It always tastes so much better than the canned variety.”

Cas smiles so radiantly at Dean that his brain is short-circuited, which is what’s to blame when he responds with, “That’s the love you taste.” He feels the blush coloring his face again, and he hates it. Cas either doesn’t notice or doesn’t acknowledge it, which Dean is grateful for either way.

“It must be,” Cas grins, and Dean grins back.

Cas eventually starts to feel better, but it’s slow, so that weekend Dean stops by to make sure he’s eating and they listen to music for hours. Cas tells him about his time as a DJ and they talk about music editing and recording, something Dean used to love doing. The following week Dean goes on a weeklong hiking and camping vacation with Sam (why they had to ruin a vacation with exercise Dean would never understand). He misses Cas but enjoys the time he spends with his brother, just the two of them. The week after that, Cas goes to a friend’s wedding in Miami. He misses him then, too, but at least they text a bit. Cas has fun hanging out with his college friends and he tells Dean all the stories about his role as wingman and his friends mostly striking out at the bars. And once they’re both healthy and in the same state again and have no other excuses to stop them from hooking up, they just… don’t. Dean doesn’t mind. It keeps him from thinking about losing him. Unfortunately, Cas’ brother reminds him.

Dean is working on some paperwork at the garage on a Wednesday morning when he hears Gabe‘s voice on the radio. “Okay, so I gotta ask our beloved listeners.” Zar hums some kind of agreement and Gabe continues, “So you all remember me talking about my bro C.J. and his future one-night stand. Zar, you remember?”

“Oh, certainly, but do catch up those who may have missed.”

Gabe gives the recap for the listeners, then continues. “So, alright. I get that things come up. The whole testing thing, the move, then C.J. got sick, then they each had vacations… I get it. But it’s been awhile since they’ve had anything in their way, and yet they still haven’t hooked up. You can’t tell me that doesn’t mean something.”

“Maybe they’re having second thoughts,” Zar muses. “You know, maybe one of them isn’t attracted to the other anymore.”

“Yeah, maybe. I mean, it’s an awfully long time to wait just to hook up. Maybe Hottie saw my brother sick and just decided he can’t handle it.”

At that, Dean gets angry. He can take Gabe talking about their agreement, even criticizing it. But suggesting he wanted to drop things with Cas because he was sick… that shit won’t fly. Gabe’s still talking, something about Cas dating, when he dials the station.

“Hey, Hottie,” Gabe purrs like the cat who caught the canary.

“Gabe, what the hell? That is ridiculous, man. I am _not_ having second thoughts about C.J., I’m just as attracted to him as I was the night we met, maybe more, and his being sick has nothing to do with anything. Just because I’m not jumping into his pants the minute I have a chance…”

Gabe interrupts Dean with, “Well, that’s what a one-night stand is, isn’t it, Hottie? ‘Cause that’s all you guys are… Oh, speaking of… hey, C.J.!”

Dean hadn’t realized Cas was listening. His heart thumps wildly when Cas snarls, “Gabe, I am _livid_ with you right now.”

“What? Why?” Gabe asks insincerely.

“You are meddling in things that are absolutely none of your business!”

“I’m merely suggesting…”

“D-... Hottie was nothing but kind and helpful when I was sick, you know that. He _called_ you and _took us to the hospital_ and _stayed_ there, and he helped me afterward as well.”

“Yeah, he did, but…”

“And we have talked and we are still planning to fulfill our agreement, but we will do it when we are ready, not when you think we should. Frankly, the fact that we’re talking about this to you is absurd.”

Dean could hug Cas for defending them. He’d really like to.

“I’m just saying that it seems like neither one of you is willing to get the show on the road, so why not just cancel the show? Say, ‘Hey, it was nice to meet you, but I’m looking for something else’?”

At Gabe’s continued questioning, Dean growls, “We don’t _want_ to cancel the show,” but then second guesses himself and asks quietly, “do we, C.J.?”

“No, we don’t,” Cas agrees with confidence in his voice, and Dean sighs in relief.

“Then get it over with so you can both move on! From what I understand, Hottie, you’ve sworn off relationships because yours have all sucked, and C.J., one-night stands aren’t even your thing!”

“Gabriel,” Cas starts, but Gabe cuts him off.

“You’re putting your whole life on hold! Isn’t it gonna be awkward when you go out on a date with someone else, C.J.? I mean, how do you explain that? It’s kind of a weird thing to have hanging over your head.”

“As I’ve said before, I’m not planning any dates for now.”

“Except for the guy you’re going out with this weekend.”

Dean’s stomach drops to his feet, but Cas sounds as surprised as Dean. “Uh, what? Gabe, I’m not going out with anyone this weekend.”

“Dude, your neighbor’s nephew who’s visiting this weekend? You told your sweet, elderly neighbor that you would take her shy, single gay great-nephew on his first guy-on-guy date when he visits. You told her back at Christmas. She’s very excited about it.”

“I… completely forgot about that.” Cas sighs. Dean’s mouth goes dry. “Well, I’m going to have to… not do that. I’m sure I can make other arrangements…”

As the brothers argue, Dean wonders if Cas is arguing about this date because he’s a nice guy and made a commitment to Dean, and he doesn't want Dean to feel bad. He knows that Cas wanted to date eventually. Not _him_ , obviously. _Good enough to lay_...

“C.J., it’s okay,” he forces himself to say with cheer. “We’re not… you know. You made a commitment. You should keep it.”

“Yeah, C.J. It doesn’t matter what you _want_. Suck it up,” Gabe taunts his brother. “Can’t _deviate_ from your _agreements_. Those are the rules.”

“Gabe…”

“Don’t grump at me, bud. They’re your rules.”

Dean is surprised — but not too surprised — when Cas hangs up.

“Nice going once again, Gabe,” Dean growls. “Damn it, quit giving your brother a hard time. I know you think I’m no good for him, but he can make his own choices, so maybe you need to stop interfering. I’ll be out of his life soon enough.”

“Who said I thought you’re no good for him… _Hottie_?” Gabe asks with a quiet, confidential air, as if he’s telling him a secret. Unfortunately, Dean doesn’t understand what the secret is supposed to be. He hangs up feeling more confused and unsettled than ever.

Dean feels restless all morning and decides to bring Cas lunch — whether to comfort Cas or himself, he’s not sure. He nudges a glum Cas on his chin when he arrives with their BLTs and iced tea. “Hey, don’t let him get to you. That’s what he wants.”

“Why does he have to be such an asshole?” Cas gripes.

“‘Cause brothers are assholes,” Dean shrugs.

They eat in silence for a while, a strange tension filling the room.

“So, a date, huh? You excited?” he asks, trying to sound chipper. Cas shoots Dean a disdainful glare. “Guess not,” he laughs, a tittering that subsides into a nervous swallow. “Uh, I’m shit at dating, having not really done it, but uh, you looked great in that outfit you wore that night. Those pants really hugged your ass. I mean, I’d wanna do ya if you were wearing them,” he jokes, and Cas smiles thinly.

“I think that was the point, wasn’t it?” Cas asks with something indiscernible in his voice, and Dean presses his lips together tightly and nods, looking away so Cas won’t see the sadness in his eyes.

Cas stands abruptly and strides to the large window overlooking the parking lot and the park beyond it and slams the side of his fist into the wall. Dean stands quickly and wraps an arm around him.

“Hey, hey,” he hushes the frustrated man, holding his fist in his hand. “Shh, it’ll be okay.” He draws him into a side-hug without letting go of his hand. He feels horrible for Cas, who clearly doesn’t want to be going on this date. Dean assumes he’s still not ready to be dating anyone yet.

Cas softens slightly with his touch and almost looks like he’s going to lean into him, but he doesn’t. Instead, he side-eyes Dean and says, “You really think my ass looked good in those pants?”

“You know I did,” he smirks, a sad sort of half-smile. He lets go of Cas’ hand. He’s about to speak again when Jo knocks at the door.

“Cas? Your 12:30 is here,” she informs him.

Dean drops his arm from Cas’ shoulders. Cas schools his face into something more pleasant and professional. She eyes them dubiously but nods and leaves.

“That’s my cue,” Dean says. Everything feels tense and awkward, and he hates leaving things like this, hates leaving Cas when he’s still upset. He clears Cas’ little meeting table and sighs before giving a small wave and heading out.

Jesse has to be out of the garage for his husband’s surgery on Thursday and Friday, so Dean can’t stop to have lunch with Cas, having to work through his lunches just to keep up. They text here and there, but it’s not as lighthearted as usual. In between, Cas’ date isn’t far from his mind. It makes for a miserable rest of his week. On Friday, Jo calls him and he calls her back on his break.

“What’s up, gorgeous?” Dean answers the phone.

“Hey, So you’re coming to Nightingale tonight with me, Jess, Hannah, Sam, Max, and Zeke.”

“I am?”

“You are. And you should invite Cas. I’m worried about him. He’s been closed in his office most of the week.”

Dean frowns. He’s been so stressed this week and he knew Cas was, too, but he didn’t realize it was that bad. Rufus calls for him, so he tells Jo, “I’ll get in touch with him.”

In the afternoon, Dean takes a minute to text Cas, hoping he’ll catch him at home since he usually leaves early on Fridays.

_To Cas 3:49pm: Hey, you out of work yet?_

_To Dean 3:52pm: Still at work. You?_

_To Cas 3:53pm: Heading out soon. Going out to Nightingale later. The ladies wanted to go back and they’re dragging some of the guys along. You gonna be there?_

_To Dean 3:55pm: Not sure_

Dean frowns at his phone. He wishes he’d made a better effort to see Cas the last couple of days. Or that Cas had reached out to him. Not that he had to, since Dean’s just a hookup to him. And vice versa. Right. Yes. Still...

_To Cas 3:55pm: You should. Hannah and Zeke are going, too. Apparently they’re all friends now._

_To Dean 3:56pm: That doesn’t surprise me. We both have wonderful friends. I’m glad they’re able to get along so well._

Dean wonders if that will make things awkward when everything’s over. But he realizes that Cas evaded his effort to get him to go.

_To Cas 4:00pm: Come on. You’re stressed. Come work out some tension._

_To Dean 4:01pm: How do you know I’m stressed?_

_To Cas 4:05pm: I just do._

Cas takes longer than usual to respond _._

_To Cas 4:10pm: Cas? You still there?_

_To Dean 4:14pm: Yes. Sorry. I do think I will join all of you tonight._

A gust of happiness flutters Dean’s heart at the prospect of seeing Cas.

_To Cas 4:15pm: Sounds good. :) Now get out of work, would you? All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, they say._

_To Dean 4:17pm: I don’t know about Jack, but you’ll find I’m far from dull. And I know how to play. ;)_

Dean is confused by Cas’ turnaround from long-faced to lustful, but after the last few days and with Cas’ date looming, Dean will accept anything that makes Cas smile and joke again.

_To Cas 4:18pm: Do you? Hmmmmm…. I’d like to find out for myself_

_To Dean 4:19pm: You can. ;) See you tonight. Text me when you’re heading out._

Dean bites his lip and texts:

_To Cas 4:21pm: I will. Or you can join us for supper first? If you want. No pressure. We’re gonna be at Calla’s at 7:30._

_To Dean 4:23pm: I’ll see you then. In tight pants that hug my ass._

Dean laughs out loud for the first time in days.

_To Cas 4:24pm: This is gonna be a fun night ;)_

Dean meets their friends at Calla’s and threatens them within an inch of their lives if they say anything about him and Cas. Then he waits outside, not ready to hang out with their friends until he sees Cas. Cas was so all over the place when they texted that he wants to make sure he’s okay before they see everyone. He taps out a Metallica tune as he chews on his thumb and looks around, not knowing which entrance Cas will use. He doesn’t expect Cas to sneak up behind him.

“Hey you,” he says close to Dean’s ear, his citrus cologne surrounding Dean. Seeing Cas, safe and sound and smiling and absolutely fucking _sexy_ in a tight t-shirt and even tighter jeans, releases all the tension from his body. Cas visibly relaxes, too, and they smile at each other.

“Hey,” he says, eyeing Cas up and down before taking his hand in a quick squeeze. “You doin’ okay?”

“Better now,” he says sincerely, his eyes and voice soft and warm. A smile erupts on Dean’s face, and he takes a moment to just gaze at Cas before he opens the door and escorts him inside.

They have a great time at dinner, and he feels like they’re back on track. He wonders briefly if it’s the drinks that have loosened them up enough to have a good time together, but he dismisses the thought almost as fast as it came. It’s not the alcohol; it’s them, who they are together. After dinner and drinks, they move on to the club. They see Anna but she doesn’t stick around, and Gabe isn’t there, thank God.

Perhaps sensing something’s up between them or perhaps just in the mood to let loose after a long week, their friends supply enough shots for Dean and Cas (and everyone else) to be quite inebriated within just a couple of hours. Dean and Max show Cas and Zeke some of their “cool” dance moves from their clubbing days, and Cas and Zeke imitate them with hilarious results. Soon each of their friends takes turns coming up with the worst moves they can think of, their circle of friends encouraging their silly behavior. As the night wears on and the DJ changes the music from “dance party” to “public orgy,” Dean steals glances at Cas, watching his body move languorously to the hypnotic beat. He licks his lips, remembering the way they danced the last time they were here, how he held the man’s hips, how they breathed each other’s breaths, how much he wanted him. Wants him, he thinks as the desire takes root inside him and blooms. Maybe Cas can read minds, Dean thinks, because just then Cas turns. His dark eyes flick up to Dean’s, and he prowls to him and captures his hips in his hands. No one else matters as Cas grinds into Dean, nothing else matters when their cocks meet and Cas groans and rests his head on Dean’s shoulder, pulling him closer with an arm slung around his neck, and time doesn’t exist when Dean grabs Cas’ hair in one hand and his ass in the other and rolls his hips, the feeling of lust and potential boiling between them. They continue in this fashion for some time, the excitement growing, until an unwelcome thought burrows into Dean’s mind like a weed. _He’s not yours. Tomorrow he’ll be with another man._ Dean breathes heavily on Cas’ neck, inhaling his sweet scent as he reminds himself _mine for a night, that’s our agreement_. Hot tears begin to form in his eyes and he doesn’t know why. He didn't want a relationship. _Doesn’t_ want a relationship. He buries his face further into the crook of Cas’ neck.

They’ve stopped dancing now, and Cas noses at Dean’s ear. “Dean.”

“Hmm?”

“Dean, I…” Cas starts, but Dean can’t hear it, not right now. He knows Cas wants to have sex, knows they probably should get it over with so Cas is free to move on, but he can’t. Not tonight. He pulls Cas tighter against him and cradles his head and back. “Do you want to…” Cas tries again, but stops when Dean shakes his head, rolling it in the space between Cas’ neck and shoulder.

Dean feels Cas shift then, and his grip loosens and becomes gentler. “Are you okay?” he murmurs in Dean’s ear. The alcohol makes Dean’s mouth loose and tingly, and he has no idea what nonsense he says in return. Cas leans back and forces Dean to hold his head up. He gazes at Dean’s slackened face with concern and care, and Dean’s inebriated brain wants to cry (again) and tell him… he’s not sure what.

“I’m drunk, Cas,” Dean decides to say. “I’m drunk, and I just don’t wanna….” He drops his face away from Cas’ piercing gaze and chews on his lip. _Your drama is not his problem, you idiot. Stop being a selfish bastard_. He sighs and grips Cas’ hips tighter. “Never mind, it’s stupid, let’s just go and…”

“No,” Cas says. He takes his hand and pulls them into a quiet, dim corner. With a hand to Dean’s chest, he says, “No. We’re not going anywhere or doing anything until you tell me what’s wrong.” He arches his eyebrow in that way that brooks no argument, and Dean relents, the words tumbling clumsily out of his mouth.

“I just… I wanna be able to remember, alright? I just wanna be able to remember us… our hookup, I mean. We’ve just spent so much time getting ready for it, you know? And I just… want to remember it, and I’m afraid I won’t.” He looks away again, feeling his cheeks flaming with shame.

Cas’ expression melts into this soft acceptance that fills Dean fuller than any sexual experience could. He surrenders himself to Cas when the man tugs him into his arms and whispers in his ear, “Of course, Dean. Of course. Yes. I want that, too. You are so worth remembering.” Hardly separating, Cas guides Dean to a chair just behind him, then settles on his lap, straddling his waist. Dean loves the weight, the solid presence of Cas grounding him. Cas leans back just enough to catch Dean’s eyes and repeats, “I want that, too. You are worth waiting for.” He cards his fingers tenderly through Dean’s hair and repeats the words over and over, his breath stroking Dean’s lips, until Dean believes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Cas and Dean’s fun little text exchanges over the weekend (including what led to him saying Cas is amazing), some internal angsting, and Cas’ (brief) plan for seduction, check out chapter 9 of “Just a One-Night Stand” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/13386972).


	10. Chapter 10

Dean squints at the sunshine beaming into his eyes. He rolls over and checks the time. 8:30 a.m. He’s up too early considering their late night. He draws in and releases a long, cleansing breath, then stumbles into the bathroom to get some medicine for his headache. Chasing it down with a large glass of water, he shakes his head to loosen the cobwebs and shuffles into the kitchenette for a coffee. He grabs his phone to check Facebook and notices the date… specifically, the day. Saturday. Date day. Dean closes his eyes and rubs between them, then gives himself a pep talk. _This is not a big deal. People date. He didn’t even want to do this. He’s just a one-night stand. Get over yourself._ The coffee finishes brewing and Dean loses himself in the inane postings of his Facebook friends, from the “Repost if…” shit to the “Signs that he’s a narcissist” videos to the “Who is your Star Wars spirit animal?” quiz. (For the record: He doesn’t repost anything, Benny was a narcissist — surprise!, and Han Solo, duh.) He prevents himself from looking Cas up, because he doesn’t send friend requests to his hookups. He wonders if maybe he should at least text him, though, say good luck or some shit. They’ve texted each other nearly every day since they met, except when Dean was in the woods with Sam. He decides he’s not going to ruin Cas’ date day with a text like he’s some kind of clingy jerk. He goes back to his scrolling. He’s grateful for the distraction, but when he’s still sitting there two hours later, he decides he needs to do something else.

After showering and dressing, he makes the quick drive to Sam and Jess’ place. He lets himself in with his key and prays he doesn’t catch them doing the nasty in the living room. He doesn’t. Instead, they’re making their grocery list.

“Want to join us, Dean? Gotta make our grocery run,” Sam smirks. He knows Dean likes to tease him about his domesticity, and also knows it drives Dean crazy that Sam doesn’t mind at all. He likes his domesticity.

“Yeah, actually, I think I will,” he says as he paws through their fridge. He pours a bowl of cereal and munches it noisily, showing Sam his chewed-up food when Jess isn’t looking.

“Gross, Dean!” Sam snipes. Jessica ignores the brothers as she finishes the list and arranges her coupons.

“So you and Cas looked pretty cozy last night,” Jess comments when Dean has finished his cereal. “Did you guys get some?” She wiggles her eyebrows.

“No,” Dean says without further elaboration. Judging by the look on her face, his tone of voice probably wasn’t kind, but he’s glad it shut down the line of questioning.

It’s hard for Dean to find any kind of food he’d consider decent at their hippie grocery store. Seeing them bicker and tease each other, though, is a lot harder. Their kind of relationship is something he’s always wanted (though he’s not doing relationships anymore, he reminds himself). His last serious girlfriend always did the groceries on her own while he was working, and Benny hated shopping, or so he said. He sighs. He wonders if Cas shops at a hippie store, too. Cas likes to cook. Dean likes to cook, too, he remembers, and even though his kitchen is tiny he can make _something_ decent. With new resolve to _not_ think about Cas all day, Dean races back through the store, picking up items he thinks he’ll need for his cooking frenzy.

He avoids texting Cas as he unloads his groceries, sorts out his recipes, and begins cooking. As he’s putting the finishing touches on chocolate and cream cheese brownies, he realizes he’s making a lot of food and has no one to share it with. Before he can get too bogged down in thinking hard about that, he texts Charlie.

_To Charlie 2:30pm: Hey you doing anything tonight? Figured I’d kick your ass at Halo on my ancient Xbox if you’re not busy. There’s food in it for ya_

_To Dean 2:36pm: Aww, I think you got that wrong. I’ll be kicking YOUR ass._

They text a bit more and agree on 6:30. It gives Dean enough time to finish his homemade cornbread, check on the huge batch of Crock Pot Chili, and clean up the apartment. Charlie arrives at 6:30 on the dot.

“Hola, bitch!” she greets him affectionately. “Ooh, smells awesome in here!”

“Thanks. Come on in,” he says, though she’s already entered the apartment.

Dean dishes out the chili and cornbread and slides a beer her way. Charlie is a talker, and Dean doesn’t have to say a word as Charlie goes on about her latest high score, her epic takedown of some nasty computer virus at work, and the cute woman in her hot yoga class. Her mention of yoga makes him think of Cas, and he grimaces as he realizes that Cas is probably on his date right now.

“What was that all about?” Charlie asks. He tries to shake it off, but she is relentless, so he finally admits that he is thinking about Cas.

“Okay. So, why aren’t you guys dating, exactly?”

Dean sighs and rolls his eyes. “We agreed to have a one-night stand. When we met he said that he didn’t want to date again right then, that he was just looking for a good fuck. I am that fuck. And I didn’t want to be in a relationship, either. Benny had just cheated on me and I wasn’t ready to go through all the crap of another relationship.”

“Okay… so what about now?”

“What _about_ now?”

“Do you guys still feel the same way?”

“Well… Cas is on a date tonight,” he shrugs.

Charlie’s face softens in sympathy. “Ouch. I’m sorry.”

“Nothin’ to be sorry about,” he shrugs again. “It’s a favor to his neighbor. Besides, I’m his hookup, not his boyfriend. He can do whatever he wants.”

“Do you want to be his boyfriend?”

“I told you, I didn’t want to be in a relationship.”

“Well, my handmaiden,” Charlie smiles, “First of all, you keep talking about not wanting to be in a relationship in the past tense. Second, I hate to break it to you, but you _are_ in a relationship. One with some sort of weird parameters that you won’t break, for some reason, despite the fact that you clearly like him and he clearly likes you.”

“I’m good enough for a lay, not good enough to stay, Charlie,” he repeats the self-deprecating mantra sadly.

“Really, Dean?” she says with an edge of anger. “Then why has he stuck around? Seriously, I bet he’d be pissed to hear that. And _I’m_ pissed to hear it. You’re awesome, Dean Winchester. I know it. He knows it. You need to know it. You _used_ to know it. Don’t let a few bad relationship experiences ruin your self-esteem. He likes you.”

“Charlie…”

“Seriously! Dean, does it make sense that he’s stuck around for this long if he wasn’t interested? You guys could’ve had sex any time once your tests came back clean. Hell, if he really wanted to scratch the itch that night, he could’ve just gone to see someone else. But he didn't. He hasn’t. He didn’t have to help you move. He didn’t have to get all your friends together at Nightingale when you were upset. He doesn’t have to have lunch with you. I honestly think that if you just asked him, if you just told him you’d like to date him…”

“I don’t,” Dean says gruffly.

“Bullshit.”

“I don’t need him turning out like the others, alright?”

“In what universe is he like the other idiots you’ve been in a relationship with?”

Dean admits to himself that Cas is nothing like anyone else he’s been with. He’s funny, and interesting, and so damn considerate of Dean’s feelings. He’s never used him, not once, and though some would say that their agreement is, in essence, using each other, Dean doesn’t think of it that way. Nor has it evolved that way. Unlike his other hookups, Cas has always been concerned about Dean getting what he wants, too, and not just in some physical, “hey did you get off too” kind of way.

“He would’ve said something to me if he wanted more,” Dean reasons.

“Not if he thinks you don’t want more. Seems to me he’s too considerate to push you.”

Dean huffs. “I’ll think about it.”

“I guess we’re done here,” she smiles sadly. She squeezes Dean’s hand before standing to clean up their dishes.

They play video games for a couple of hours, and for a while Dean is able to forget. But as the evening wears on and the exhaustion of staying up too late the night before and stressing out throughout the day catches up to him, Dean feels himself more distracted and sad… or angry, he’s not sure which. Maybe both. Dean’s character is killed and he doesn’t even notice.

“Okay, I just had to mercy kill you, Dean. You’re not even playing anymore.”

“This sucks, Charlie,” Dean says, throwing down his controller and running his hands through his hair.

“What sucks?” she asks, placing her controller down and turning toward him.

“This whole thing,” he says. “This whole thing.” He sighs heavily. “If I…”

His phone alerts him to a new text. Dean opens the text, his anxiety easing at the message.

_To Dean 10:30pm: Well that’s done. Hope my fucking brother is satisfied._

“He’s back home already,” Dean says under his breath.

“He is? Wow, that’s early,” Charlie comments.

“I know.” He sends him a message:

_To Cas 10:30pm: Back so soon?_

Followed by another:

_To Cas 10:30pm: Something tells me your brother will never be satisfied. Not until we play our roles, anyway._

_To Dean 10:31pm: What roles?_

_To Cas 10:31pm: As the horny hookups_

He giggles at his train of thought and writes:

_To Cas 10:32pm: I was gonna say horny hookuppers but that didn’t make sense and horny hookers just sounded wrong :P_

_To Cas 10:32pm: But I liked the alliteration so horny hookups it is_

He’s still giggling and staring at his phone when Cas replies:

_To Dean 10:33pm: I didn’t know you were such a fan of alliteration._

_To Cas 10:34pm: Oh yeah._

“You’re so cute,” Charlie fusses with his hair and Dean bats her away. She gets up to put the game away and Dean stares at his phone again, laughing aloud when he reads Cas’ next message:

_To Dean 10:36pm: Well, I laughed loudly at your ludicrous lines._

“Oh my God,” he laughs, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

“What?” Charlie asks with amusement.

“He’s such a weirdo,” Dean grins.

“You like weirdos,” she notes as she points to herself.

“I do,” he confirms as he replies to Cas:

_To Cas 10:38pm: Oh baby, that’s so hot_

“Lemme see,” she says as she grabs his phone and reads through the conversation. “Aww, you guys are too funny. Do you really think Gabe’s against you guys?”

“Seems like it. He’s always goading us.”

“Hmm. Oh! That’s so cute!” she says, handing him his phone to read the new message.

_To Dean 10:41pm: I’m happy my humor heats up your huge heart._

Dean’s anxiety is completely gone now, their familiar banter soothing him like a lullaby. He grins.

_To Cas 10:42pm: Damn, you’re good at this. :) You in the office for lunch on Monday?_

_To Dean 10:43pm: Yes, I am. I’ll bring lunch to you, how’s that?_

_To Cas 10:44pm: Sounds perfect._

“I’m gonna head out,” Charlie says as she kisses him on the forehead. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Char.”

“Anytime, you know that! Do me a favor, okay?”

Dean, still seated, looks up at her. “What’s that?”

“Just… don’t let go of someone who makes you smile like that.” She smiles and waves her goodbye. Dean lays back on the couch, wondering if Cas will text him again, when his phone chimes.

_To Dean 10:47pm: Perfect. I’ll pencil you in my planner. I’ll purchase paninis, pop, and pie. ;)_

_He does make me smile_ , Dean thinks as he reads the latest text.

_To Cas 10:48pm: Can’t wait, you big dork._

_To Dean 10:48pm: You started it. Good night, Dean._

_To Cas 10:49pm: Happy nappy, Cas._

_To Dean 10:50pm: Oh now we’re going to rhyme? I was struggling with the alliteration as it was._

_To Cas 10:51pm: Just kidding with you. Night Cas. :)_

_To Dean 10:51pm: Good night, Dean. :)_

Dean presses his phone against his chest, then scowls at himself and plugs it in to charge. But the smile remains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To read all about Cas’ date, check out “Just a One-Night Stand” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/13386972).


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An extra chapter because I love you so!

The Monday after Cas’ date, he drops by Dean’s garage with the promised paninis, pie and pop.

“Have you seen this before?” Cas asks as he places his iPad on the table and pulls up “Point Pleasant Police Department” clips from _The Tonight Show_. Dean hasn’t seen it, and laughs so hard he spews sandwich bits the same way the actor and the host do, causing Cas to bend at the waist and laugh until he’s gasping for air. Attracted by the laughter, all the guys from the shop gather around them to watch.

On Tuesday, Dean is stuck at work because Rufus is out, so Cas stops by again, this time with soup and sandwiches. The soup isn’t as good as his mom’s, but most soup from a restaurant isn’t.

On Wednesday, Dean plies them with fajitas, fries, and fruit punch, which Cas tells him is ridiculous even as he snickers; Dean defends his choices by saying he couldn’t think of any other alliterative items. They’re chatting about their mornings when Gabriel knocks and enters the office. Cas still seems a bit pissed at him. They banter a bit until Gabe asks mischievously, “Soooo, C.J., how was your date?”

Cas looks even more pissed. Dean sits still next to him, wanting and not wanting to hear about it, since they hadn’t discussed it at all.

“Fine,” Cas grinds out between clenched teeth.

“Well, tell me about it! You took him to that place Eliana’s, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And then you went to the movies, right?”

“Yes.”

“And then what?”

“Then I took him to his aunt’s and I went home.”

“What? That’s it?” Gabe asks disingenuously.

“If you knew all this, why are you asking?”

“Deets, man!”

“There are no ‘deets’ to give, Gabe.”

“What, a young, scholarly virgin such as handsome Everett, free for you to form and shape, and there are no deets?”

_Everett. Guh. Sounds like the name of a douchebag._

“Gabe. Drop it.”

“I’m just sayin’ that I stopped by to see Rowena, since you weren’t home and all, and that young man hasn’t stopped talking about you!”

“Gabe,” Cas growls. “Get. Out.”

“What’s the big deal? I mean, he decided to stay for the summer, might even move here, she mentioned, and you’re not seeing anybody…”

Dean is getting angry about Gabe’s pushing, but Cas looks like a bull seeing a red cape.

“Gabe…” he warns.

“He’s a safe choice, man. You like safe choices, right? C’mon, Cas. He’s a nice guy, great career prospects, looking for a man to call his own, uncomplicated…”

Dean is shocked when Cas nearly upends the table as he jumps to his feet and points at the door. “GABRIEL! GET THE FUCK OUT! RIGHT GODDAMN NOW!”

Gabe is unruffled by his brother’s yelling; in fact, he seems pleased by it, Dean notices. “Okay, okay, no need to be so angry, geez,” he says, placating him with his hands. Jo and another CPA come around the corner to investigate. He offers them a smirk as he passes, saying over his shoulder, “The listeners think it’s too bad you and Hottie can’t break your agreement; they love a good love story.”

“GET OUT!” Cas screams. Jo and the guy scurry away as Cas grabs the door and slams it so hard the walls shake.

“Fucking _asshole_!” Cas rasps. He takes a long drink of the punch, spilling some on his white shirt, and all Dean wants to do is hold and comfort him, even though that’s not really his place. He stands and places a steadying hand on his shoulder as Cas puffs angry breaths out his nose. “I don’t know why the hell he cares. Seriously.”

“Here, just sit,” Dean pleads with pinched brows. Cas sits. Dean takes a deep breath before asking, “You wanna talk about it?”

“What’s there to discuss? He’s an asshole.”

“No,” Dean shakes his head, “I mean your date.”

Cas, who’s been staring at the wall, moves his eyes toward Dean’s. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Dean shrugs as he looks away. The air is thick with unspoken thoughts. “I mean, you can. You won’t hurt my feelings,” he says as casually as he can manage despite the swirling in his chest.

Cas gazes at Dean’s face for a moment, his bullshit meter fully engaged. “Well, it was nice,” he says indifferently.

“Nice?”

“Nice.”

It doesn’t sound very nice, from Cas’ unenthusiastic description. Dean frowns. “Nice like how?”

Cas lifts a shoulder. “Nice like… like a day that passes without much notice. Nice like a shirt that you wear because it’s in your closet and it’s clean. Nice like driving a sedan.”

_Boring, in other words. Ordinary. Not like us._ “Sounds…nice,” he says with humor.

“Yup,” Cas says like he’s reading an instruction manual. “Nice. A very normal, conventional date.”

They watch each other with undisguised interest for a while, until Dean smirks. “You, ah, got something there,” he says, thumbing his own upper lip in demonstration. Cas juts out his lips exaggeratedly and nearly crosses his eyes as he looks down toward his mouth. _Adorable_.

“Dude,” he laughs, “it’s the fruit punch. You gotta lick it. Like this.” He passes his tongue and lower lip over his upper lip several times.

Cas copies his movements slowly, teasingly, drawing out the sexual tension that’s suddenly made an appearance. “Like this?” he asks, his voice even lower than usual. _Fuck_.

“Yeah,” Dean murmurs. “Just…” he reaches out and rubs Cas’ upper lip with his thumb, supporting his hand on Cas’ jaw. Cas’ stubble is already making an appearance, and it feels like fine sandpaper against his palm. “There,” he says. Their eyes roam each other’s faces. Cas swallows, and Dean follows the wetting of his lips, the pursing of his mouth, the bobbing of his throat. Dean considers throwing caution to the wind and pressing their lips, stained with fruit punch, into a long-awaited kiss, but a knock on Cas’ door breaks the trance.

“Cas?” Jo calls hesitantly.

Cas clears his throat as Dean looks away and drops his hand. “Yes, Jo?” he answers with forced pleasantness.

“You have a visitor. She says she’s your mom?”

Dean turns to him, wide-eyed. _His mom? All the way from Mexico?_ Cas looks just as surprised, but he says, “Uh, okay, I’ll be right out.”

The men pick up lunch and open the door. Standing out in the reception area is a short, honey blonde woman with skin like tanned leather that’s been worn with time. She is toned and wears the curves of her age with pride. She has the look of a person who knows and accepts herself unconditionally and accepts you in the same manner.

“C.J., love,” she greets him, holding her arms open wide. “Surprise!” Dean, a bit nervous because he knows Cas had some ups and downs with his family in the past, smiles as he watches him embrace her without hesitation, bending his six foot frame down to her, their height difference comically illustrated.

“Mom. This is… weird. What are you doing here?”

She gives him a warm smile just like his own mom gives him, and it makes Dean feel calmer in her presence. “Your father and I just thought it had been too long, and we wanted to see you all,” she explains. “Besides, it’s not every day your brother turns 35. I’m so happy we could be here to celebrate the day he liberated himself from my womb.”

_The day he what?_ Dean ponders her statement, and Cas chuckles at Dean’s confusion. “Dean,” he says, turning to him, “this is my mother, Nayeli. Mom, this is Dean Winchester.”

Dean holds his hand out for her to shake, but she pulls him into an embrace, standing on her toes until he bends down, knowing they look just as comical as her and Cas did. She leans back and looks at him with eyes the same caramel color as her skin.

“Ah, Dean. You’re an air sign, aren’t you?” she observes. At the confused half-shake of his head, she says, “What’s your sign?”

Dean can’t resist the joke. “Gee, Nayeli, I’m flattered,” he says as he winks with a mischievous grin. She laughs and he tells her he’s an Aquarius.

“Yes, that’s what I would have guessed. Stubborn but loyal, correct?” Dean swats Cas, who’s grinning and shaking with suppressed laughter. _Jackass_. “I’m not surprised. Air and fire often make very happy, compatible partners who spur each other on to great things,” she declares. “C.J. is, of course, a fire sign. But you probably already knew that.”

“He probably didn’t, Mom,” Cas says with the patience of someone who’s accepted their quirky relative. It makes Dean grin.

“Oh, oh, well, sorry. But yes, very compatible, you two, inside and outside of the bedroom. Written in the stars.” Dean’s eyes widen at her words. “Of course, I have eyes, too, and the air around you feels very harmonious yet thick with sexual and emotional tension.”

Dean knows his eyes must be bugging out of his head, and he moves a little closer to Cas. “Mom, you’re scaring the nice man,” Cas says with an airy sarcasm that Dean lov- _enjoys_ about him.

“Oh! Sorry again!” she chirps with flapping hands. “Well, I came to tell you that we want to take you and your siblings camping this weekend. We’ll leave tomorrow. Do you remember the beautiful lake we went to when Loki turned 12? It’s just a couple of hours from here. They have a wonderful fireworks display this weekend that I think is very fitting for your brother’s personality, don’t you? I think it would be a wonderful way to commemorate his birth.”

“Loki?” Dean asks.

“Gabriel,” Cas answers.

“That’s the name he gave himself as a youth,” Nayeli explains, “although he goes by his birth name now. I just can’t seem to break the habit.” Dean remembers Cas telling him that they got to rename themselves at some point in his childhood because their parents wanted them to be “unencumbered by the labels we forced upon you as infants.” Cas picked his initials and later tried to get them to call him by his given name again when he wanted to be “normal,” but no luck. “So, the lake, C.J.?”

“Uh, sure,” he says a bit hesitantly.

Dean could kick himself. He was going to ask him to come to their barbecue at Sam’s tomorrow. Not that he has any right to, really, but Jo and Sam and everyone else thought it would be a good idea. Now he won’t have the chance. _It was a stupid idea, anyway_. He shifts away from Cas and flips his phone nervously in his hand as Cas tells his mother he can leave around 4:00, after he gets out of work.

Dean’s attention snaps back to the room when Nayeli asks, “Oh, Dean, do you want to come? You’re more than welcome! I’ve never excluded any of my children’s lovers, not even Daphne.”

“Mom,” Cas groans. Dean thinks he understands how he feels. It’s awkward as hell in the little office.

“And you’re much warmer and more genuine, I can tell,” she carries on. “Much more C.J.’s type.”

“Mom,” Cas says, taking her by the elbow. “Listen, Dean and I are not…”

“Are you talking about that agreement of yours?” Cas and Dean lean back simultaneously, flabbergasted. She continues, “Loki told me. But agreements are only agreements until you don’t agree with the agreement anymore.” They both wear pinched expressions at her dizzying logic, but she doesn’t carry it on any further. “Well, the invitation is open.”

Dean smiles, hoping to hide his feelings about everything she’s said. “Thank you, Nayeli,” Dean says, “but I’m helping my brother with his barbecue tomorrow afternoon, so…” he glances at Cas and shifts on his feet. “Anyway, have a great time. Uh, Cas, you around for lunch tomorrow?”

“Yes, of course,” the man answers, smiling just for Dean. The heat between them simmers again as they share a look.

“Cool. I’m working ‘til noon, so since you brought lunch twice I’ll bring you lunch tomorrow. If you want.”

“I want,” he says with a deep breath, flicking his eyes between Dean’s mouth and eyes. _Damn_. Dean smirks.

“Alright, then. Tomorrow it’ll be gyros, grapes and Gatorade,” he says with a wink. Cas smiles shyly in return, which makes Dean’s ears redden and his smirk soften. He hates (and loves) how he turns to mush when Cas smiles at him like that. Dean waves goodbye and heads out the door to give them some privacy.

_Okay, so I won’t have the barbecue_ , Dean thinks. _But we’ll have lunch, and that’ll be just as good. It’ll be great_. Dean gets an idea to add to his “G”-themed lunch, and chuckles to himself as he makes a mental note to go to the grocery store after work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads-up, you might want to make sure you catch next week’s post... ;)
> 
> For Cas’ POV about his brother’s and mother’s unexpected visits, check out chapter 11 of “Just a One-Night Stand” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/13386972).
> 
> Referenced in this chapter:  
> “Point Pleasant Police Department,” The Tonight Show


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally!

When Dean wakes up on Thursday, he thinks it’s going to be an ordinary day.

Last night, he prepped the meat for today’s barbecue and stuck it in the industrial-sized refrigerators downstairs at the Roadhouse. He also made a bunch of cookies, setting some aside for him and Cas. This morning, he puts a couple of lunches together for them and sticks them in a cooler so he doesn’t have to worry about fitting them in the fridge at work (or them getting “accidentally” eaten by a coworker). He’ll probably just leave the cooler in his car, anyway, since he’ll be going right to his grandmother’s from Cas’ office. He puts an alarm in his phone to pick up his grandmother on his way to Sam and Jessica’s. Just as he’s getting ready to leave for work, he receives a text from Sam.

_To Dean 7:02am: All good for today?_

_To Sam 7:02am: All set. Although I still say it’s un-American to celebrate July 4 on July 3_

_To Dean 7:03am: You know it’s the only day Jess’ parents will be in town. Suck it up. Did you ask Cas to come?_

_To Sam 7:04am: He has a thing this afternoon. His parents are in town and they’re going to the lake._

_To Dean 7:06am: That’s too bad. Sorry. At least you asked. See you later._

Uh, no, but what Sam doesn’t know won’t hurt him, Dean figures.

It’s a pretty light day due to the upcoming holiday, so he’s in the office looking over some invoices with Rufus when his phone rings. It’s Jo.

“Hey, Dean,” she says, her voice a bit off.

“What’s up?” Dean asks immediately.

“Uh, Cas wanted me to call you. He’s having some problem at home and he doesn't think he’ll be in today. He said you were stopping by and asked me to call you.”

A twinge of concern pinches his gut. “Is he alright?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say he wasn’t, but he was swearing a lot.”

“Hmm. Thanks, Jo,” he says distractedly, hanging up before she can say anything else. He stays distracted, trying and failing not to think of when Cas was so sick a while back and how scared he was.

“What’s the problem, boy?” Rufus asks after a few minutes.

“Just Cas. He’s having some kind of problem at home.”

“What kind of problem?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, go check on him.” Dean looks up hopefully, and Rufus continues, “Listen, you’ll be shit to me until you do, so go. Take the day. You were leaving early, anyway.”

“Thanks, Rufus,” he smiles, already halfway out the door.

Dean drives a little faster than normal until he gets to Cas’. He doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary from the outside, so he goes to the door and knocks. Receiving no response, he ignores etiquette and lets himself into the house. “Cas? Cas, you alright? Jo called and…” Dean stops short at the sight of Cas, who came from the back of the house. He’s standing in a white, short-sleeved polo shirt and black boxer briefs, soaking wet. It’s a good look for him. “Dude, you’re soaked and half-naked,” he notes with a leer. Cas peers down at himself and blushes.

“I was hoping you’d come,” he jokes in a low voice. Dean laughs as he appreciates the smoking hot body in front of him.

“Had I known what was waiting for me, I would’ve been here sooner,” he grins as he wiggles his brows, making Cas laugh. Cas never seems to laugh with others as much as he does with Dean, he notices, and he chokes down the emotions that brings up. “What’s going on?”

“My laundry room got flooded,” Cas explains. He leads Dean to a very wet laundry room, a couple of five-gallon buckets floating in the inches of water.

“Shit, that sucks. You got a wet/dry vac?”

He doesn’t.

“I’ll have someone bring one from the garage.” Dean texts Jesse and asks him to bring the shop’s wet/dry vacuum and a couple of their large fans. After tucking his phone into his back pocket, he takes off his shoes and socks, leaving them in the hallway, then rolls up his jeans and grabs a bucket. “I guess we’ll do it this way, then, at least for now. I’m having them bring a couple of our big-ass fans, too. You’ll need a way to dry this out.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas smiles at him. “Wait, aren’t you supposed to be at the garage?”

Dean shrugs and looks away. “Like I said, Jo called. Figured I should check on you.”

“Well, thank you. I appreciate it.”

The two men work in silence for a while, the quiet only punctuated by heavy breaths or an occasional curse word or request. The pace is steady and rhythmic. Dean shifts his footing a bit as the water slowly drops down. When he bends over to resume the scooping, his phone slips out of his pocket and into the water. “Ah, shit!” he yells, and though both men dive for the phone, it’s too late. Dean picks up the soaked phone. “Damn. Now I gotta get a new one,” he moans, pressing buttons uselessly on his flip phone. He knows he’ll be forced to pay out the nose to get some new smartphone he’s not sure he’ll be able to operate.

“Look at it as a blessing,” Cas teases, and Dean shoves him playfully. _Smartass_. Cas shoves him back, and soon they’re wrestling, attempting to put each other in arm locks. Dean gets into it and swings a leg around the back of Cas’ knee and pulls, and they both splash down into the remaining water.

“That was dirty!” Cas shouts as they’re grappling on their knees.

“You’re dirty!” Dean shouts the only comeback he can think of.

Cas unbalances Dean and pins him down, soaking him thoroughly in the inch of water remaining on the floor. “You’re right. I am dirty,” he purrs.

Dean’s eyes darken and his dick begins to show a _lot_ of interest at Cas’ dominance. To avoid a “situation,” he starts struggling under Cas until he frees himself and twists Cas around and onto the floor. “Me too,” he crows with a grin. The sexual tension dissolves and the men laugh hysterically until the doorbell rings. “I’ll get the door,” Dean offers. “Wait here.”

Dean greets Jesse, who hands him the requested items with a concerned pinch of his eyebrows that turns to a smirk as he takes in Dean’s dripping clothing. He returns with the wet/dry vac and plugs it in. He turns it on and… nothing. He frowns down at the machine and fiddles with the cord and the power switch. Abruptly, Cas unplugs it and walk down the hallway, where he plus it into an outlet. It roars to life in Dean’s hands and startles him. “Thanks,” Dean mutters, side-eyeing him and rolling his eyes affectionately when Cas shoots him a cheesy grin. Dean forgot that Cas probably turned the electricity off in the laundry room. He vacuums the remaining water while Cas drags the fans from the kitchen into the hallway, then disappears. A couple of minutes later, he piles towels next to them. Cas helps Dean move the washer and dryer so he can get the water behind and under the machines. When Dean is finished, he rolls the vacuum out.

“Lookin’ good, Cas,” he says as he surveys the room.

“Why, thank you, Dean,” Cas rumbles, pretending to toss back his hair. Dean can’t help but grin.

“You’re always looking good, Cas,” he says, bumping Cas’ hip with his own. “I’m gonna see if I can fix the problem.” He bends over and picks up his toolbox. “You wanna help?”

“I’ll wipe up the floor. I’m not much good with plumbing. Not that kind,” Cas winks. Dean chuckles and quickly drops his gaze back to the metal box, eventually selecting a wrench. He tries to put the sexy man out of his mind as he loses himself in plumbing of a decidedly unsexy kind.

“Fixed, I think,” Dean says a while later. “Well, for now at least. You’ll need a couple of parts, but this’ll do until you get back.”

“Perfect. Thank you so much. I’m going to turn the water back on.”

“Great. I’ll pack up the vacuum and toolbox and take these towels outside to hang. Don’t need the neighbors to see you in your skivvies.”

Dean packs the toolbox and vacuum in his car, then comes back in for the towels. He heads out the door to the backyard, soaked towels in his arms. He begins to drape the towels over Cas’ clothesline, a very sturdy, beautiful thing (as beautiful as clotheslines get) that Cas told him he built with Gabe.

“Excuse me?” a man in the yard next door calls. Dean looks up to see a younger, average-height man with short, wavy red hair and a sculpted, freckled face graced with a trimmed goatee and green eyes. He’s a nice-looking guy, handsome even, though he’s no Cas. Dean nods and the man continues, “Is Cas alright?”

Cas? How does he know Cas? And why is he calling him Cas in the first place? _Well, they’re neighbors, duh._

“Yeah, he’s fine. Why?”

“That’s a lot of wet towels,” he shrugs. “Plus, I thought I heard him yelling earlier.” He gestures to the open windows on both their houses. Dean wonders why he didn’t stop by earlier if he heard Cas yelling and was concerned. He drapes a few more towels on the taut lines.

“Yeah, well, everything’s fine. He had a problem with his washing machine this morning, so I came over to help him out. Things got pretty wet.” He hangs the last two towels as the man speaks again.

“Oh, you’re the plumber,” the man says with a small chuckle of… relief? “Do you need help cleaning up? I don’t do plumbing but I can operate a mop,” the man jokes with a small, sheepish grin.

Dean squints his eyes subtly. “We’re fine,” he says slowly as he approaches the fence where the man is standing. He doesn’t know who this man is and he’s not sure he likes him being up in Cas’ business. “We have it under control,” he adds, allowing a low growl to underline his words.

“Okay,” he surrenders. “Sorry, I just wanted to make sure he was okay. I, uh, I know him. I’m not a creep, I swear.” He holds his hand out for Dean to shake. “I’m Everett. Ev. Cas and my great-aunt are neighbors.”

A cold shiver races through Dean’s core. _This is Everett. Young, nice, smart, handsome, uncomplicated Everett. Guy-who-won’t-stop-talking-about-Cas Everett. Douchebag Everett_. He reluctantly takes Everett’s hand and shakes it a little too firmly. “Hey,” he says. Dean levels a hard stare at him for a moment. Everett shifts from side to side.

“Well, uh, let Cas know I’ll be around if he needs anything, alright?”

“Like you were around when he was yelling earlier? Yeah, I’ll let him know,” Dean says gruffly, then turns and walks away. He knows he sounds like a jealous lover, and he couldn’t care less. Thoughts of stupid Everett swim through his mind. He clatters into the house and swings the door closed carelessly behind him with a distracted frown.

“Dean? Is everything alright?” Cas asks.

Dean snaps out of his rumination about Cas’ date who conveniently lives next door. “Yeah, sorry,” he apologizes. _Get it together, Winchester._ “So, uh, you heading to work?”

“I think I’ll take a shower before heading to the office. You’re welcome to as well. I’ll loan you some clothes. You’re still rather soaked.” Dean looks down and plucks at his shirt. He hadn’t really noticed, but Cas is right. Cas returns with boxers, gym shorts, and an old t-shirt from a radio promotion. “You go first. Towels are in the closet in the bathroom. Help yourself to anything you need.” He smiles and walks away as Dean clutches Cas’ clothes tightly, as if they’re Cas himself.

A short shower later (in which he tried very hard not to think of Cas naked and wet, nearly impossible with the smell of Cas all around him), he catches up with Cas in his room. “All yours,” he says, his voice deep and soft. There are so many things he’d like to do with Cas in this room. Cas nods and smiles.

While Cas is busy, Dean looks at the time. It’s around lunchtime, so Dean grabs the cooler from his car and sets lunch out on the table. He hopes he’s not being presumptuous, but frankly, after his little run-in with “Ev” ( _what kind of douchebag nickname is that?_ ), he can use a little Cas time. When Cas runs into the kitchen in his towel to grab his phone and stops in surprise, he smiles… and not just because the man looks delicious fresh from the shower. “Hey,” Dean greets him, answered with warm eyes from the dark-haired man. “I know you wanted to go to work, but I had our lunch in the cooler in my car so I figured we could still eat before you go. If you have time, I mean.” He shifts and licks his lips anxiously. _Maybe this was a bad idea?_

“Of course,” Cas says. “I’d love to. Let me just, ah…” he gestures to his nearly-naked body.

“What, no naked lunch?” Dean pouts playfully, making Cas laugh. “Hey, did you ever see that movie? It’s really weird. Sam made me watch it.”

“Can’t say I have,” Cas says.

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you from any of Sam’s attempts to educate you in movies.”

“I trust you. You have wonderful taste, Dean.”

Looking at Cas standing there, his blue eyes so sincere, he says, “Of course I do. I picked you, didn’t I?” The compliment makes Cas blush fiercely. Dean smirks at his response but it’s gentle and fond. Then Cas, with his soft gaze, turns it around and makes him blush in return.

“I picked you too, Dean, so I guess I have good taste as well,” he smiles. Dean presses his lips in a bashful smile, busying himself with setting out the glasses (a little fancy for Gatorade, but whatever) as Cas turns and hurries to his bedroom. Once Cas returns and they’re seated, Dean waits for the verdict on his homemade gyros.

“Did you make these yourself?” Cas asks. Dean nods and Cas widens his eyes in surprise. “They’re great,” he praises him with a full mouth. The corners of Dean’s mouth turn up and he hums his thanks, trying not to preen with Cas’ praise. There’s a length of time when they don’t say much, but neither seems to mind. When they finish lunch, Dean grins like a child who’s desperately trying not to spill a secret. He hopes Cas likes the surprise he made.

“Close your eyes,” Dean commands, and Cas obeys. Dean opens the container of cookies and sets the treats on a couple of plates. “Okay, open.” Cas does and starts laughing immediately, delighted by what he sees.

“Dean, these are great! Did you make them?” He holds up a gingerbread man cookie, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt made with yellow icing.

“Yeah,” he says, almost bashfully.

“I love them!” he gushes. “Ooh, look at me, I’m going swimming!” he talks for the little man. He makes the man jump off the table. “Cliff diving!” Dean slumps in his seat, laughter overtaking him, thoroughly enjoying how silly and weird Cas can be. “Me too!” Cas says in a high-pitched voice, the gingerbread woman in a yellow bikini with white dots following the cliff diver.

“Uh oh, a shark!” Dean exclaims, grabbing the male cookie out of Cas’ hand and biting off a leg.

“Ahh! Ahh!” Cas yells as he bites the leg off the woman. “Help!”

“Look! The lifeguard is coming!” Dean says, making a dark-haired, red-shorted cookie man run toward the others.

Cas laughs and says, “It’s that guy from _Baywatch_!”

“No, it’s you, dumbass. Look, it has blue eyes.” He wiggles it in front of Cas’ face, remembering how much fun he had making the Cas cookies.

“So it does,” Cas smiles softly.

Before he melts into the floor, he points out the other Cas cookies, as well as the ones that look like Dean and like some of their other friends.

“Wow, Cas clones,” Cas laughs.

“This one’s Gabe.” Dean holds up a cookie with brown hair and eyes and a bright pink shirt. Cas eyes it disdainfully, then plucks it out of Dean’s hand and bites his head off. “Dude, I meant for you to bring that to him,” Dean chokes out between giggles.

“Asshole doesn’t deserve cookies,” Cas grunts. He crushes the rest of his body with his fist. Dean chuckles.

“Maybe I should’ve made some of these to look like Asshole,” he muses about Benny. “Would’ve been nice to smash his face. Here’s another one of Gabe.” Dean holds up another Gabe cookie but won’t let Cas smash it. “We’ll make him make out with the Zar cookie,” he says, smooshing it with a blond-haired, blue-shirted cookie. Cas’ eyes scrunch up tightly and he throws his head back with a guffaw, gleeful about the outcome of the radio show co-hosts. Dean can’t stop staring at how beautiful he is.

They eat and throw a beach party for the cookies until only a Dean and a Cas remain unsullied. Dean throws an arm around the back of Cas’ chair and walks his man toward Cas’.

“Hey baby,” Dean’s cookie says to Cas’, “I think I’m sweet on you.”

“Oh, donut say such sugary things. You’ll make me crumble.”

Laughter hisses through Dean’s teeth. “That was horrible,” he teases, even though he thought it was adorable.

“I’m better at alliteration,” Cas admits. “Surely your sweet sentence will seize and singe my sugary soul.”

“Aww,” Dean coos, making Cookie Dean give Cookie Cas a hug that Cookie Cas returns by pressing their iced bodies together. As they press their cookie selves together, thoughts flash through Dean’s mind: The night they met and the morning after. Going to the clinic. Cas comforting him after everything with the STD and Benny. All the thoughtful things Cas has done. Lunches. Netflix. Dancing. His illness. Trust. Humor. Acceptance. Choosing each other. It’s overwhelming. Dean feels his eyes watering and his lips trembling, and when Cas turns to him, his lips parted in a smile all for Dean, it’s over. The waiting, the wondering, the fantasies… all of it ends as Dean moves toward Cas and Cas moves toward him, pressing into each other, sweet and solid and sure. _It’s over. It’s happening._

Dean curls his arm around Cas’ shoulders and urges him closer, and Cas climbs into his lap eagerly. He grips Dean’s face and coaxes his mouth open with his thumbs, and Dean yields without question; he draws Cas’ tongue in with his own, teasing and swirling. Cas winds his fingers through Dean’s hair and pulls him even closer, startling a gasp out of him, and Dean answers by tangling his fingers in Cas’ hair, groaning as he kneads through the shower-damp waves. Dean wonders if Cas is trying to kill him as he grinds into Dean’s lap and trails wet kisses down his jaw and onto his neck, focusing on the soft indentation just under his ear that drives him crazy. Dean responds in kind, thrusting his hips up as best he can in his position and rolling his head back while he slides his hands down Cas’ sides and onto his hips, those sharp angles he’s dreamed about grasping as he pumps into him. After a few minutes, the heat and arousal rising exponentially, he whines breathlessly, “Cas… Cas, gonna lose it right here if we don’t slow down.” Cas takes the hint and stands.

“Come with me,” he beckons with his hand. Dean slides his hand into Cas’, the feeling of rightness even more pronounced than the other times they’d clasped hands. Cas leads him into his bedroom. Turning to face him, his fingers hovering over the hem of the borrowed t-shirt, he asks, “May I?” Dean nods. There is no other answer in his mind. Cas slowly glides the shirt along his chest and over his head, driving him mad as he kisses along the path his thumb traces on his torso. Cas’ mouth is an instrument of torture and bliss, making him moan and pant through Cas’ laving of his nipples. He wants to administer the same kind of divine torture, though, so when Cas reaches his mouth, Dean claims it like a pirate claiming treasure, plundering the dark cavern over and over. He takes his time once Cas drops Dean’s shirt to the floor, leaving no corner of the luscious, sweet mouth unexplored. He slides his hands under Cas’ shirt and traces the muscles in his back, briefly remembering the tattoo gracing it, then tugs the shirt over his head and plants his mouth onto Cas’ collarbone, working his way down, down, down until he reaches the waistband of Cas’ shorts. He stops and looks up, seeking permission.

“God, yes, Dean,” Cas moans with his fingers fisting Dean’s short strands, the tingling adding to his desire. Dean feels like he’s unwrapping the best gift he’s ever received as he unbuttons and tugs the shorts down to his ankles, then lifts each of his feet and frees them. He mouths at the fabric of the royal blue boxer briefs, soaking the fabric on the outside as Cas soaks it from the inside, his cock responding to the heat. Dean groans as he continues his work, adding his hands to massage Cas’ thighs. Cas stops Dean with a tug to his messy hair, and Dean raises his lust-glazed eyes at him.

“Switch with me,” Cas says, walking backwards and pulling Dean toward the bed. Dean follows without hesitation, and Cas gently turns them and lays Dean down. He hovers above him for a while, gazing at him with a tenderness that Dean’s never experienced in the bedroom, before slithering down his body. He removes the borrowed shorts, then the underwear, teasing Dean with fingers and tongue before taking him in all at once. _Oh fuck, fuck, fuck._ Dean jerks in response, his body urgently seeking to dive into the depths, before settling into the mattress and clutching desperately to the sheets. Cas alternates between slow, sweeping strokes and rapid bobbing and sucking, both methods driving Dean to the brink.

“Cas… Cas,” Dean gasps, “please, oh God. You’ve gotta stop.”

Cas smiles wickedly and licks a drop of pre-ejaculate off his lips, which is hotter than any of the times he imagined him doing that very thing. “Why? What’s the matter?” he asks with large, gorgeous eyes.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean squeaks, hauling the dark-haired man atop him and kissing him hard. They stay in this position for some time, rubbing against each other and kissing until they need to breathe, then gulping down air and diving in again. “God, Cas, I want you,” Dean growls. “Wanted you so long.”

“Me too, Dean,” Cas agrees and hooks his legs, then flips him over. Dean startles in surprise and they laugh. “Want to feel you in me,” he says, the words setting Dean ablaze.

“God, Cas,” he moans, resting his forehead on Cas’. “Damn.” He slides his hand down and removes the briefs, then grazes Cas’ opening gently, making Cas bite his lip. It feels incredible and it’s been so long since he touched a man this way. Cas points to a drawer and Dean smirks and opens it, pulling out a bottle of lube.

“Ah, that’s where you hide it,” Dean says, indicating the toy he’d gotten the night they met.

“Yes. I like to keep it handy,” Cas grins, eyes closed as he prepares himself for the pleasure about to arrive. Dean takes a moment to stare at the beautiful, smartass weirdo he’s lucky to know. He enjoys being able to joke together, even in such an intense moment. He flips the cap open and squeezes some on his fingers, ready to get to work.

“Seems like there’s a joke in there somewhere,” Dean comments, then inserts a finger into him. When Cas responds not with another smartass comment but with surrendered bliss, Dean allows himself to indulge in the sheer joy of penetrating his hot, tight body. Cas hasn’t done this in several years — not with another man, anyway, and not with his ex-wife when they were married — but his body hasn’t forgotten, and he seems to love it. Dean kisses his neck and face and murmurs, “Look at you, fuck, Cas” as Cas writhes and pushes against his fingers, slack-jawed and dazed, his head whipping side to side on the mattress. It’s so much better than he ever imagined. Upon finding his prostate, Cas shouts and arches off the bed, then grabs Dean around the neck and yanks him into a searing kiss while Dean takes him apart, stroke by stroke.

“Fuck me, Dean,” Cas rasps at last.

He wants this. _God_ , does he want this, but his nerves take over. What if he’s not good enough? What if he’s not what Cas really needs? “Are you sure?” he asks, licking his lips and searching Cas’ face.

Cas leaves no room for doubt. “Dean,” he growls, “you pound me into this mattress right now, you hear me?”

“Fuck,” he breathes, kissing Cas again, “fuck, fuck.” He leans over and opens the new box of condoms, pulling off the first one on the end. He rolls it onto himself and applies more lube, then turns back to Cas and sits on his knees. “Um, how do you, uh…”

“I want to face you, if that’s okay with you,” Cas answers his unfinished question, gently touching his arm.

“Yeah,” Dean smiles. He didn’t want to influence Cas either way, but he’s so glad they’ll be facing each other so he can look at those eyes, at the tiny wrinkles, at that smile that’s all for him. Dean moves into him tentatively, gently, reverently. Cas accepts him easily, as if Dean is made to be there, and soon he’s fully seated within Cas, both of them moaning their approval at the situation.

He can’t bring himself to pound into Cas just yet. He wants to feel the slow sensation of every nerve in his body disintegrating in the heat of Cas’ physical and emotional warmth. Cas doesn’t seem to mind, so they start slowly, the feeling of being enveloped by the tight heat sending Dean into deeper depths of desire. It’s not long before that desire urges Dean harder into Cas, giving him what he wanted and what Dean is craving like a junkie. He presses heated kisses into Cas’ face and neck. Cas thumbs the hair off Dean’s sweat-drenched forehead. Dean supports Cas’ body with trembling arms. Cas whispers praise into Dean’s ear. Nearing a frenetic finish, they cannot do anything more than rest their heads together, sharing breath and the vibrations of their moans of pleasure, and Dean has never been so wrapped up in another person in his life. He folds an arm around Cas’ back and tilts him up just enough to nail his prostate again, and Cas grips the headboard with one hand and Dean’s hair with the other, rocking into him as he chases his own pleasure. It’s so much, _so much_ , and Dean is enraptured with the sight, the sound, the feel, the taste and smell of Cas as the man chants Dean’s name until he comes, when his name is replaced with wild, noisy euphoria. He gazes at Cas in awe. That Cas accepted him, laid himself bare for him, gave himself over to him… it’s a power of sorts, but more than that, it’s a fuckin’ privilege that he would never, never take for granted, not with him or anyone, and he would never allow someone else to use that privilege against him ever again. Not when he knows it can be different.

“Fuck, Cas,” he whispers, raw and adoring. He chews on his lips and searches his face, not even caring that he hasn’t orgasmed yet. But Cas cares.

“Yes, please do,” Cas smiles, urging Dean’s hips forward and pulling him into a heated kiss that turns tender and comforting. Dean falls into it and surges on, thrusting forward. Cas explores his mouth and cards his fingers through Dean’s hair until Dean’s orgasm takes over, forcing a deep-throated groan from his gaping mouth that ticks into a grin as he finishes and buries his face in Cas’ neck.

They breathe together as a boat on the ocean, rising and falling into each other’s rhythms until they are perfectly synced. After a while, Dean kisses Cas gently on the cheek, then ducks out to the bathroom and returns with a couple of damp, tepid washcloths.

Dean wipes the sweat from Cas’ face, neck and chest before cleaning the ejaculate from his skin. “Feels good,” Cas murmurs sleepily, giving Dean the unexpected urge to curl up next to him and fall into slumber. (Well, not really unexpected, if he’s honest with himself. He’s a bit of a cuddler.) He cleans himself up hurriedly, then begins to curl in next to Cas before he stops suddenly, wondering if this is okay to do, if Cas would enjoy it. Cas opens his eyes and frowns.

“What is it?” Cas asks, a hand slipping to Dean’s jaw.

Dean looks down at Cas’ hip and says, “I didn’t know if, if you’d wanna, you know.” He waves his hand into the space next to Cas but doesn’t elaborate.

A strange shadow overtakes Cas before he lifts his arm in invitation, his eyes troubled yet tender. Dean crawls next to him and sighs, resting his head on his shoulder and closing his eyes.

They get three minutes in their cocoon before Cas’ brother yells from somewhere in the house.

“C.J.! Hottie! Where the hell are you?”

“What is your asshole brother doing here, Cas?” Dean grumbles with a sigh.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out and it had better be good.” Cas hurriedly (and irritatedly) shrugs into a shirt and shorts; Dean only has time to pull on the shorts he borrowed from Cas before following the angry man out of the bedroom. Gabe’s eyes light up upon seeing the pair coming from the vicinity of Cas’ bedroom.

“Gabe, what the…”

“Hey, thought your family was gonna send out the National Guard, Loverboy,” Gabe says to Dean with a smirk, cutting Cas off. “They’ve been calling you. Couldn’t reach you so they called work. Work said you were here. They called Cas but he didn’t answer, either.” He waves Cas’ phone and they see several text messages and missed calls lighting up the screen.

“Shit,” they mutter in unison.

“Here.” Gabe tosses Cas’ phone to Dean. “Call your family.”

Dean selects one of the multiple missed calls from his brother and wanders into the other room to speak to him.

“Cas? Have you seen Dean?” Sam asks by way of hello.

“It’s Dean, Sam. Sorry, my phone…”

“Dean, where the hell are you? You were supposed to pick Gramma up half an hour ago! And you have all the meat for the party! _Where the hell are you?_ ”

“I’m coming! Fuck, Sammy, I’m running late! I had to help out Cas with something at his house!”

“I thought he wasn’t going to be around?”

“He isn’t! But his washing machine blew so I helped him. Are we done the Spanish Inquisition?”

Sam blows out a hard breath. “Dean, I’m sorry, but Gramma’s called me five times. _Five times_ , wondering where you are. You know how she gets!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I’ll be right there! Wanna punch me in the nuts while you’re at it?” Dean stabs the phone with his thumb to disconnect the call as he re-enters the kitchen.

“What’s wrong, Dean?” Cas asks, standing just out of the way as Dean scrambles toward the table and begins to hastily pick up the plates and glasses on the kitchen table.

“I forgot I have all the meat for the barbecue at home, plus I gotta pick up my grandmother, who’s called Sam five times already wondering where I am.” Dean doesn’t need to explain it any further, having told Cas previously that grandmother has early-stage Alzheimer’s and gets anxious easily.

“Just go, Dean,” he says in a calming tone, grabbing his arm to stop him from cleaning up the mess. “It’s okay. I’ll make sure you get your things back.”

“I don’t need ‘em, Cas, just didn’t want to leave you with a mess….”

“Go. Your family needs you.” Cas squeezes his arm and turns him around, nudging him with both hands toward the bedroom. Dean takes the hint and rushes to the bedroom, pulling on the borrowed shirt. He finds his socks and shoes in the hall outside the laundry room and tries to slip them on as he trots back to the kitchen.

“Thanks, Cas,” he says, hopping on one foot to slip on a shoe. Remembering he has a few other things to get, he jogs to the laundry room to retrieve his ruined phone, then grabs his soaked clothes from the bathroom where he’d hung them. When he returns, he’s too distracted to notice Cas’ eyes are following him. Gabe, for once, is quiet. Dean mutters to himself as he pats down his body and twirls around slowly in the kitchen. “Fuck, okay, uh, broken phone, soaked clothes, other shit’s in the car, okay… I guess that’s everything.” He looks up at Cas, who gives him a tiny, amused smile as he dangles his keys from his finger.

“Oh yeah, those help,” he laughs. His hand brushes against Cas’ as he grabs his keys, and he’s reminded of how those same hands held him just a little while ago. Cas’ smile doesn’t change as he turns to go. “Thanks. Alright, see ya later! Have a good weekend with your folks!” he calls behind him, pulling the door open with his free hand. He’s looking forward to eating good food and hanging out with his friends, and maybe he’ll freeze some leftovers for him and Cas to share on Monday. Just as he tugs the door closed behind him, he freezes and the door smacks him in the back. _Oh fuck. Oh fucking fuck, fuck! We had our one-night stand!_ Swallowing the sick, horrified feeling at his realization that he and Cas will be no more, he plasters on the brightest, fakest smile he’s ever had to muster and turns to Cas, who’s simply watching him with the same tiny smile that hasn’t moved.

“Hey, almost forgot,” he says, leaning in through the doorway and beckoning Cas with an outstretched arm. _Stay cool._ He folds Cas into a one-armed hug and says a quick, casual “Thanks for everything, it was fun” into the crook of his neck before patting his back and heading out the door, his eyes never meeting Cas’ because he can’t. He can’t see those eyes, those tiny wrinkles, that smile that has been his everything for the last three months. For Cas, this was a hookup, a way to release tension and get back into the game, but for Dean… He can’t. He forces himself to walk to his car casually, in case Cas is watching, though why would he? He slams the door and takes a few minutes to collect himself from the stark reality of his situation. He should have savored it. He should have appreciated it more. He should have remembered. Swallowing tears, he backs slowly out of the driveway and drives until he can’t see the house in his mirrors anymore. Then, he pulls over and sobs.

_It happened. It’s over._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my... how are you all doing?
> 
> For Cas’ POV, including how his morning went and a little snark from Gabe, check out chapter 12 of “Just a One-Night Stand” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/13386972).


	13. Chapter 13

He doesn’t really remember getting to his grandmother’s little apartment, nor does he remember her repeated questions, though he does remember he answered them somehow. He doesn’t remember going through the back of the Roadhouse to fetch the stuff for the barbecue out of the refrigerators. He doesn’t remember the drive to his brother’s place. The first thing he remembers clearly that afternoon is the emptiness he feels despite being surrounded by family and friends. People greet him, he knows, and he greets them in turn, his dazzling, all's-right-with-the-world smile turned up to eleven. His brother is still pissed, so he doesn’t notice anything is amiss. Cas would have noticed, but Dean didn’t let him see his face. He didn’t want him to feel guilty or beholden to Dean just because Dean was freaking out about a little hookup. So Dean puts up and shuts up, as usual.

Before all this went down, Dean had agreed to man the grill so that Sam could help entertain the guests, and he’s grateful for the distraction. Now, his conversations can be limited to how people want their meat cooked. A few people try to engage him, but he pretends to be engrossed in his process and they back off. Occasionally someone comes by to offer him another beer, but when they see the one he’s barely touched, they don’t bother.

“You want me to take over so you can eat and mingle?” his dad asks when most people have had their first plates and are gearing up for seconds.

“I’m good,” he says, keeping his eyes glued to the blue-yellow flames flicking from the gas unit.

“You sure? Haven’t seen you eat anything.”

“I’m fine.”

“Son…”

“Okay, fine, you can take over,” he blurts, backing away from the grill and shoving the tongs into his father’s hands. “I’m gonna hit the head.” He heads toward the duplex, careful to walk at a normal pace and to smile and wave at whoever manages to make eye contact. Once inside, he makes his way to the bathroom and closes the door, then retches into the toilet. Breathing heavily and considering using his brother’s toothbrush to clean the vomit out of his mouth, he eventually leans back and rests against the wall.

_Fuck. Why couldn’t I keep it casual? Why?_

_Because he’s amazing, dumbass._

Knowing he’s probably been in the bathroom too long, he rinses his mouth with mouthwash and washes his face. He drops a couple of eyedrops in to combat the angry red threads in his eyes, then opens the door and is greeted by two blonde, concerned women.

“What’s going on? And don’t lie,” Jess demands.

“You’ve been avoiding everyone,” Jo accuses.

“I’ve been cooking!”

“Convenient,” Jo scowls. “Is this about Cas?”

“No!”

“Yes,” the women say together. They know him too well. Dean scrambles for a way to tell them the truth without getting into the rest of it.

“Alright, alright, you hags,” he jokes gruffly. They squint at him in unison and it’s a bit scary. He sighs. “Cas’ laundry room flooded. I helped him fix it. We ate lunch. We had sex. Happy?” Sharp intakes of breath follow his revelations, but he knew that would happen.

“Dude, tell us all about it!” Jess says, dragging him toward her bedroom for privacy as Jo fiddles with her phone, thumbs flying. He puts up a fuss about talking about his sex life in his brother’s bedroom, so the women steer him to the couple’s office instead. “Okay, spill!” she enthuses. Jo leans in intently.

“Uh, not much to tell. I pretty much said it.”

“Dean…” Jo starts.

“And I shouldn’t even _tell_ you,” he says, glaring at her. “You’re his employee.”

“Oh come on! I already know about your agreement!” she argues.

“Really, there’s nothing to say.”

They stare at him for a bit, hoping to break him. “Was it fun?” Jess asks.

“It was great.”

“Like, really fun?”

Dean allows himself to think back to the blissfully ignorant hour that Cas was his. “Yeah. Really fun.” He tries to say it with a smile.

Charlie bursts into the room, having been surreptitiously summoned by Jo via text. “Liar!” she yells like the old lady married to Miracle Max in _The Princess Bride_ , one of her favorite movies (Dean’s too, but he’d never admit it).

“What the hell, Charlie? You don’t even know what we’re talking about!” Dean grouses.

“Of course I do. I’ve been listening by the door.” The women snicker as Dean rolls his eyes.

“I’m not lying, Charlie,” he says.

“She asked if it was fun. It wasn’t fun. It was passionate and sweet and all that boyfriendy lovey-dovey crap, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. Lovey-dovey crap,” he grumbles. He turns away from them to look out the window, clenching his teeth and staring blankly.

The women are quietly observing him until Charlie whispers with concern, “Oh. Oh no. Dean.”

“Charlie,” he warns, but the others catch on.

“Dean! Oh, honey!” Jess gasps, wrapping her arms around him from behind.

“Ohhhh. Crap,” Jo says, then falls into his side.

“You fell in love with him,” Charlie remarks softly, sitting on the windowsill to face him and brushing his hair with her fingers.

Dean closes his eyes and shakes his head but lets the women comfort him for a while before he begs, “Don’t tell him. Please.”

“But Dean, if he feels…” Jess starts as Jo suggests, “I can do a little reconnaissance at the office…”

“No! He… he didn’t want that. He’s got other options.”

“Dean,” Charlie says sternly, “I can’t believe you’re not going to fight for him.”

“Fight who, Charlie? I’m not gonna force myself on him. Yes, there was attraction, which was why we made the agreement in the first place. But beyond that? He never mentioned wanting to date me. He went out with that Everett guy…”

“Everett? That was his name?” Charlie asks.

“Yeah.” Dean shrugs. “Anyway, he didn’t want to go out with him, either, and he just got out of a shitty marriage. He told me he wanted to start dating _eventually_. He’s probably not ready for anything serious. I probably shouldn’t be, either. Sam says....”

“Oh, who cares what he says!” Jess exclaims. “Listen, I love your brother, but this is _your_ life. Besides, we’ve all seen how happy you are with Cas. You have never been happier. Right, ladies?” They nod enthusiastically. “Sam even says he wishes you guys would just drop this stupid agreement you made. Seriously, it probably seemed like a good idea at the time, but it’s been months! You couldn’t have predicted how things would go when you made it.”

“Rules are made to be broken,” Jo says with conviction.

“Exactly,” Charlie agrees. “Make a new agreement, if you insist on rules.”

Dean’s mouth ticks upward slightly. “Cas’ mom said that it’s only an agreement if we still agree on it.”

“Exactly!” the three women shout in unison.

“She said we’re air and fire. Written in the stars or some shit.” His smile hitches just a bit higher.

“Yes! I love this woman!” Charlie declares.

“Even said I was better suited to him than his ex-wife.”

“Oh yeah!” Jess says, holding her hand in front of him for a high five he doesn’t return. His smile evaporates. “What? Dean, what is it?”

“I was worried that he was going to turn out like the others…”

“And we talked about how ridiculous that was,” Charlie points out.

“Yeah, and you were right. He’s not like anyone I’ve been with before. But the truth is, the common factor in all those failed relationships is me.”

Silence envelops the room. “Dean…”

“It’s true, Charlie. And that’s why it’s best for me to stay far away from him.” He stands up, shaking Jess and Jo off him gently. “I’m gonna go. It’s been a long day.” They stand up with him and walk him to the door of the office, giving him hugs before he leaves. Charlie and Jo hang behind while Jess slips out ahead of him and makes sure no one is around so he can make his getaway unseen.

“Thanks, Jess. Sorry about all this,” he frowns, bottom lip quivering.

“Oh honey, don’t worry about it. We’ll make sure Gramma gets home. You just go home and rest, okay? And listen,” she says, holding his face firmly in her hands until he looks up, “don’t believe all the crap you’re thinking right now. You’re upset. Wait until you’re thinking clearly before you make any decisions. And don’t drink. And remember to eat. Got all that?”

A wan smile flits over his face. “Yeah. Got it.”

Dean leaves his sister-in-law on the front steps and walks down the street, where he had to park since he’d been late. Making a U-turn to head home, he passes by the duplex and spots his brother and parents next to her, watching him drive away.

At the Roadhouse, he considers stopping at the bar to drown his sorrows, but he figures nothing will make him forget… and like he told Cas that night at Nightingale, he doesn’t want to forget, anyway. As painful as it is, he wants to remember every touch… every word… every look… every second of Cas. And all night, all weekend… he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Dean. :’(
> 
> To find out what Cas was up to after everything went down (including a little family bonding time), check out chapter 13 of “Just a One-Night Stand” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/13386972).


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting a few hours early today because I’m at my first SPN convention! :D

Wake up, drink coffee, go to work, go home, stare at Netflix, go to bed. Repeat.

“You need to do more than work, Dean,” Sam says.

“You need to eat something, kid,” Ellen says.

“You need to pay attention or you’ll hurt yourself, son,” Rufus says.

There’s only one thing he needs, and he can’t have it.

Wake up, drink coffee, go to work, go home, stare at Netflix, go to bed. Repeat.

His friends and family do what they can. His parents stop by to visit, “just because.” Ellen comes by and cleans up the apartment while he’s at work. Jesse gives him all the jobs that require a lot of concentration and time. Someone drops lunch off to him every day, though no one will fess up to it. None of it really matters. Despite their best intentions, it’s the routine that helps. Sort of. It’s not a healthy routine, perhaps, but he’s not drinking and he’s not hooking up. He knows neither of those will fill the void. So the pattern doesn’t change, despite the badgering of his family and friends. Not until an unexpected visitor graces his waiting room almost two weeks after The Day.

“Well, don’t you look like shit,” Cas’ brother Gabe greets him. “Seems to be a common affliction.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Dean asks, confused.

Gabe shrugs. “Just figured you might need some lunch since, you know, you’re not having lunch with my brother anymore.” He holds out a grease-spotted bag from Dean’s favorite burger place, one they used to get lunch from all the time. He’s had a couple of these bags show up in the last several days, along with lunches from other places he and Cas used to go. It’s been Gabe dropping these lunches off to him.

“Why do you care?” Dean asks, taking the proffered bag roughly from Gabe’s hand.

“Well, he wouldn’t eat it. Don’t want it to go to waste. I hate spending money on lunches he refuses to eat while he sits in that godawful office and hides.”

Dean pauses. It bothers him that Cas has reverted back to working through lunch. He ignores the hypocrisy in his thoughts.

“Come on, let’s eat,” Gabe demands. Dean follows him blindly to a shady spot under the lone tree they have on the property. In the past it’s been used as a smoking area, but no one smokes at the garage now so it’s mostly ignored. He and Cas did eat out here a couple of times, though. It hurts to think about it. They eat in silence for a while.

“Wow, you’re almost as boring as my brother, and that’s saying something,” Gabe observes.

“Your brother’s not boring,” Dean retorts, irritated.

“Well, he wasn’t. Now he is. Again. Bit of an asshole, too.”

“He is not.”

“In my family, we value honesty, so if my brother’s being an asshole, I’m gonna say so.”

“He’s not an asshole!”

“Sure he is.” He crumples up his wrappers and stuffs them into his empty bag. “I mean, anyone who would let a guy who’s clearly in love with him leave after they banged for the first time is kind of an asshole.”

Dean stares at Gabe, who calmly meets his eyes. “How did you know that?” he asks carefully.

“That you’re in love with him?” Dean nods and Gabe smirks. “You just confirmed it, idiot.” He stands up and dusts off the back of his shorts. “Not that I needed it, but good to know.” He salutes Dean and walks away, leaving Dean unsettled.

Lunches are left for him for the rest of the week. He had thrown the others away before Gabe’s visit. But now, Dean eats them outside under the tree, knowing at least that they had been in Cas’ presence first. He knows it’s pathetic, but it makes him feel like they’re having lunch together again.

On Saturday night, exactly two weeks and two days after The Day, a knock disturbs his Netflix staring. “Come in,” he rasps, not having used his voice that day. He’s surprised to see Sam, Jo, and Max and Zeke (who are apparently a thing now).

“This is an intervention,” Jo says as Sam and Max drag him off the couch. She pushes Dean into the bathroom. “Shower,” she orders him. “We’re going out.”

“I don’t want to…”

“Shower!” she yells, pointing. He rolls his eyes, head rolling in the same direction, and slams the door. One of them throws some clothes into the bathroom once they hear the curtain close.

Dean grumbles as he scrubs his body. It’s not as if he hasn’t been showering or anything. He doesn't see the big deal. He just wants to be alone. And not even in the unhealthy alone way. He just wants solitude, time to think. He’s done more thinking in the months he’s known Cas than he ever has before. Mostly about himself — about who he is, who he wants to be, and how he relates to others. Now, standing in the shower and running his fingers through his hair, he thinks some more. And the more he thinks, the more pissed off he gets. Making a decision, he slams the water off and dries himself with a thin, frayed towel, then ignores the clothes placed atop the small sink and pulls the clothes he’d been wearing — Cas’ old t-shirt and basketball shorts — back on. He opens the door and strides to the table, picking up his laptop from the coffee table on the way.

“Dude, you’re not dressed,” Max observes.

“Yes, I am. I’m wearing clothes that are appropriate for my evening activities.” He sits at the table and exits out of Netflix.

“Dean…” Sam starts.

“What did you think you guys were gonna do? Huh? Were you just gonna march in here and drag me out? Take me to some scuzzy bar? Make me ‘get back into the swing of things’? Huh?” They look at each other guiltily but say nothing. “Well, guess what? I’m not into your plan. Have a good time.” He turns to his computer and pulls up a program he hasn’t opened in a long time.

“Dean, just hear us out.”

“Is that what you guys were gonna do, Sam?”

He rocks his head from shoulder to shoulder. “Dean, I just thought…”

“You thought what? That you could get me happy-drunk? That you could throw me toward another warm body and I could fuck my troubles away? You’re the one who’s always lecturing me about that shit.”

“It’s not a long-term solution, obviously, but it could help you forget…”

“ _I don’t want to forget!_ ” Dean yells at his younger brother. “I want to _remember_ , Sam! I want to remember Cas! I want to remember what we had, even if I can’t have it anymore! I want to remember who _I_ am, who I _was_ at one time and who I _am_ now and who I want to _be_! I want to make my own decisions about what’s best for me, not be bullied into them. I’ve had _enough_ of other people telling me what I’m gonna do and me just going along with it.” He looks at all of them, well-meaning but rightfully ashamed of themselves. He exhales harshly. “Look, thanks for trying, but I’m not gonna be that guy anymore. I’m gonna do what I want to do. And tonight, what I wanna do is sit here and play with my music, in Cas’ clothes, and I wanna think about him. And none of you are gonna tell me I can’t.” He turns back to his computer and opens up Audacity, his music editing and recording software. It makes him think of Cas, but more importantly, it makes him remember how good it is to do something for himself. The others leave quietly, and Dean loses himself in mixing tracks of mournful love songs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Curious about how Cas is spending his time away from Dean? If so, check out chapter 14 of “Just a One-Night Stand” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/13386972).


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus chapter! <3

Dean wakes from a vivid dream on Sunday morning. Still feeling rattled by it, he takes his time opening his eyes. It was music, mostly, and floating images still seared into his memory from The Day. Laughing and cookies and stunning blue eyes.

“I’ve gotta record that,” he mumbles aloud to no one, inspiration seizing him as he whips the sheets off his bed. Naked except for black boxers, he stumbles around the partition and into the living room. He starts his computer and brews coffee, then stands and waits for both impatiently. His computer is doing some sort of update. Rolling his eyes, Dean hums the tune he’s thinking about so it won’t disappear into the ether as he starts looking for his guitar. He mutters about it being around somewhere, until he finally realizes: _Shit. It’s still at the old apartment._ He thought he’d gotten everything out of the apartment he’d shared with Benny, but the guitar had been jammed way back in the closet, he remembers now. Benny didn’t like clutter and didn’t like the guitar laying around.

“Fuck. Well, only one thing to do,” he sighs. Ignoring the pit of anxiety in his gut, he gets dressed, slicks some water through his hair to press down the cowlicks, and pours coffee into a travel mug, then grabs his keys and heads out.

The drive to the apartment is surreal. He hasn’t been out there since he moved out. He doesn’t miss the place. He takes a visitor parking spot and decides which of his old neighbors would be awake at this hour on a Sunday morning. He buzzes Mrs. Petrozzi, arguably the biggest busybody he’s ever met. He doesn’t mind anymore.

“Hey, Mrs. P.,” he greets her through the camera. She buzzes him inside, then greets him from her door on the first floor when he steps into the building.

“Dean! I thought you moved out? I saw you moving your things a while back.”

“I did,” he says with a smile. “I just forgot something. Came to get it back.”

“Ah. Why buzz me, then?”

She’s an older woman, but sharp. He always underestimates her. “I wasn’t sure Benny would let me in,” he shrugs.

“Oh, I see. Well, it’s nice to see you,” she smiles, and he smiles in return before turning toward the staircase. He pauses when she calls his name and turns again to face her.

“I think it’s good you left him,” she comments. Mrs. Petrozzi has never been one to keep her opinions to herself. This time, he agrees wholeheartedly.

“Me too,” he says with a smile pulling up a corner of his mouth.

“You looked much happier with that other fellow.” At his questioning look, she says without shame, “I was watching you out the window when you moved out.” Dean laughs at her unabashed nosiness. It’s the first time he’s laughed when not thinking of Cas. Although he’s thinking about Cas now, too, since she brought it up, so he’s not sure whether it counts.

“You’re not wrong, Mrs. P.,” he confirms. “Wish me luck.” He waves and heads up the stairs to his old apartment.

Dean knocks, not giving a shit about the time. He’s not surprised to see an attractive man just a bit younger than him open the door.

“May I help you?” he asks.

“Hey man. Just here to pick up something I forgot,” Dean says. “Can I come in?”

“Who are you?” he asks, still confused.

“Oh, sorry. Dean. Benny’s ex.” He holds his hand out for the man to shake.

“Kurt,” he says as he takes Dean’s hand. “Uh, come on in. Benny’s in the shower, I can…”

“No need, I know where it is.” He bypasses the man and saunters into the bedroom, which hasn’t changed much but for the different sheets and the different smell, then he digs in the closet until he finds the acoustic guitar deep in a corner. He pulls the case out and opens it, inspecting the instrument and the case. Satisfied, he closes and snaps it. Kurt followed him to the bedroom and is watching him, somewhat bewildered as to whether he should allow the stranger to leave with something.

“Um, I’m just going to check with Benny about this,” he says.

“Sure, whatever,” Dean shrugs. He strides out of the bedroom and leans by the entry door, looking around at the new(ish) furniture that he’d bet good money belongs to Kurt. A couple of minutes later, Benny stomps out of the bathroom, Kurt just behind him.

“What are you doing here?” he asks. “Thought you were done with me.”

“I am,” Dean smiles. “But I’m not done with my guitar.” He holds up the worn black case.

“Didn’t bring all your little friends with you this time?” his ex sneers.

“Nah. I don’t need help moving furniture this time.” He offers Benny a _fuck you_ delivered in a way he can understand: with a smirk of indifference.

“You’re trespassing,” he tosses out. Dean recognizes his tactic; he’s trying to get the upper hand. He screws his face in disbelief at the ridiculous effort.

“I’m not trespassing. Your boyfriend let me in. I’m sure my buddy who was here to babysit you would agree with me.”

“I oughta have reported all of you to the police,” he growls. “Especially your little pussy friend. He used false pretenses to get in here.”

“Go ahead. I have a cop and a lawyer who’ll back me up, and another guy who can make your life a very public living hell. And C.J., well, as I recall you invited him in. You _wanted_ him pretty damn badly, didn’t you? Enough to be willing to take it up the ass.” Dean sees Kurt flinch out of the corner of his eye.

Benny scowls. “He’s a fuckin’ asshole. You two deserve each other.”

“He’s not the asshole here, Benny. The asshole is you. He isn’t the one who slept with a bunch of guys while we were living together. He isn’t the one who gave me gonorrhea. He isn’t the one who treated me like shit. You are. But never again. Not me. And C.J. won’t fuck you either, so I wouldn’t show your face at Nightingale on Friday and Saturday nights when you say you’re working. Not to mention that the V.D. nickname you have there probably won’t get you far. Or are you trying to pick up guys at another bar now?” Dean looks at Kurt, who wears a horrified expression. It’s probably the same one Dean wore when he found out the whole truth about his ex. “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, man, but this guy is trouble. Get out before you get too far in this.”

“Hey, fuck you!” Benny shouts.

“Not anymore!” Dean smiles, opening the door. He steps backwards into the hallway. “Oh, by the way... C.J.?” Dean says, leaning in a bit to make sure he’s heard, “Best lay you’ll never have.” He winks, then turns and strides down the hall, happy to get the last word despite the voices that are getting more distant with each step.

He smiles all the way home, but grows sad again when he arrives back at the Roadhouse, at the same tiny apartment in his same tiny life. Victories like the one he just had feel good, but they feel better when you can share them with someone who’ll be just as happy about them as you are. Maybe more.

“I wish I could share this with you, Cas,” he murmurs, remembering how Cas had supported him through all the shit with Benny, how he said “fuck him, Dean” and how he flipped off the phone with his middle finger and how he waited for him through the grief and the STD treatment and how he helped him move and even stood right by his side after he told Benny off. _Damn it_. He wipes his eyes in a gesture that’s becoming too familiar and sighs. He’d kind of like to talk to _someone_ about it, at least. Charlie is going to a birthday party today and his brother and Jess are doing Sunday brunch with their parents (he was invited but knew he wouldn’t be good company), so against his better judgment, he calls Jo, who begs him to let her bring pizza over as an apology. He’s not very hungry, but he allows it anyway. He figures it’ll make her feel better, at least, and maybe her presence will make him feel better.

“He’s not _dead_ , dumbass,” Jo snarks after hearing the story and spilling his heart out about Cas. So much for her presence making him feel better.

“I know that, but it’s not like I’m gonna see him again…”

“But you could…”

“He doesn’t want that. He wanted a good time, no strings attached sort of thing.”

“Oh my _God_ , you two are such _idiots_ ,” Jo groans, throwing her head back dramatically against the back of the couch. “ _Seriously_ , could you two just get over yourselves already?”

“Jo…”

“No. Both of you are tiptoeing around, trying to be oh-so-respectful of each other’s decision or autonomy or some shit, and meanwhile you’re _hurting_. People change their minds all the time! Frankly, your insistence on not challenging this whole agreement thing is baffling, and it’s pissing us off.”

“Who’s ‘us’?”

“Me and Gabe! And everyone else! Do you know how many people have called me to talk about this, because I see both of you? Do you know how often Gabe has come by the office? _Every. Day_. He’s worried. Cas gets to the office before I do, leaves after I do, and I barely see him in between. He won’t talk to me about it, but that kind of behavior’s gotta say _something_ , doesn’t it? ‘Cause I’ll tell you, it doesn’t say ‘Hey, I’m perfectly fine and ready to move on because that was just a pleasant way to blow off steam,’ does it?”

“He’s probably just falling back into his old habits now that I’m not taking up his time…” Dean reasons, though it sounds weak even in his own ears.

“Oh my God!” she exclaims, throwing up her hands. “What the hell are you so afraid of, Winchester? You love him. Tell him.”

“Why, so he can say, ‘Oh, bummer for you’?”

“As if he would say that!” Jo retorts. “You know he wouldn’t! He’s not like that! Cas is different than anyone you’ve been with before!”

“Exactly! He _is_ different than anyone else! And I fell in love, and it hurts, and I don’t know how to handle it!” He stops and cradles his head in his hands. “I can’t hope, Jo,” he murmurs, voice cracking. “I’ve hoped. I’ve hoped so many times, in so many relationships. And the others, they were hard, but Cas… God, Jo, if Cas doesn’t….” He sighs deeply. Jo rubs circles on his back, the heat from his outburst making his shirt stick where she touches it.

“What if he loves you? Wouldn’t you want to know?” Jo asks gently.

“Jo, if I was guaranteed to get a positive answer, then yeah, there’s nothing I’d want more. But there’s no guarantee. It’s just easier to live with our agreement. That way, I never know for sure. I can’t be rejected.”

“There are no guarantees in life, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. Trust me,” he says, thinking of the failed relationships and other disappointments in his life.

“But there _are_ chances that end up working out well,” she says with a smile in her voice. He doesn’t answer, but he thinks of the chance he took on Cas the night he met, and he nods minutely. They’re silent for a while, Dean taking a small bit of comfort from the motions of Jo’s hand on his back.

“I think he’d be proud of you,” Jo says about Dean’s confrontation of Benny.

“I know he would,” Dean agrees.

More silence follows, and then, “Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“Remember what I said, okay? About chances?”

“Okay,” he rasps.

She kisses his temple and bids him goodbye, texting someone frantically on her way out. When he’s alone again, he picks up his guitar. Too drained now to do anything but strum, he think about the best chance he ever took and lets the tears fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one’s almost done! Thanks for hanging in there!
> 
> To find out why Gabe’s been such a jerk (lol), check out chapter 15 of “Just a One-Night Stand” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/13386972).


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short but sweet. :)

On Monday morning, Dean wakes up, drinks coffee, and goes to work.  It’s a gorgeous day, the kind of summery day that makes people call out “sick” from work.  Dean doesn’t call out sick, even though he’d like to.  But he wouldn’t be enjoying the beach, anyway.  He’d just be staring at the four walls.

Dean’s under a Nissan Altima when Rufus calls him into the waiting room.  

“Sit.  Listen,” he says, then walks away.  Dean’s not quite sure what he had to come into the waiting room to listen to.  After The Day, they had changed the radio station in the garage so Dean wouldn’t be so mopey (for all the good it did), but that station was now off and a small radio on the desk was turned up loudly, blaring some pop song Dean doesn’t know.  When it ends, Gabe is flapping his gums and Dean sighs loud enough for those in the waiting room to look up at him.    

“It’s 75 degrees and sunny on a beautiful Monday morning and you’re listening to the Gabe and Zar Show.  So here’s a little something for your Monday.  Just wanted to give you the update on the continuing saga of C.J. and Hottie.”  Dean runs his fingers through his hair, then remembers they’re dirty and pulls hand wipes from the drawer.

“Ah, yes, it’s like our own little soap opera,” Zar jokes.

“Indeed, Zar, indeed,” Gabe continues.  “And speaking of deeds… they did the deed, my friends.  I repeat: they did the deed.”  Dean groans.  Several people look up, paying more attention now.  Rufus and Dean’s co-workers wander in and gather around the radio.  

“No!” Zar says with false shock.

“Yup.  Two, three weeks ago now.”

“And how was it?  I mean, if it was good, maybe the whole delayed hookup thing will catch on.”

“Well, from the report I got, it was good.  Great, even.”

_Yeah, good.  Best-sex-of-my-life good._

“Oh!  Well, good.  Now they can get on with their lives.”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?  But would it ever be that uncomplicated?”

Dean lays his head on the desk, both in embarrassment and to cool his face against the cheap laminate.  Someone clues in the customers that it’s Dean the DJs are talking about.  He thinks about laying there forever, but perks up with what Gabe says next.  

“See, the thing is, one of them fell in love and the other one… well, who knows, really?  He never said anything, just said sayonara.  Kind of a jerk move, if you ask me.  Now, we’re an unbiased show so I’m not gonna name names — and Lord knows they’ve both been idiots — but they know who’s who and frankly, I’m pissed at both of them.”

“Well, it’s definitely a jerk move to not even acknowledge the guy’s feelings, Gabe. Couldn’t the jerk tell that the other guy was in love with him?”

“Well, I mean, to be fair the jerk didn’t ask and the other one didn’t confess.  But I mean, anyone with functioning eyes could see it.  It was pretty damn obvious.  And now the jerk is responsible for breaking the other guy’s heart.”

“He just let him go?”

“Just like that.”

“What an arse.”

“Exactly.  I mean, the jerk’s clearly the one who wanted to stick to the agreement, you know?”

“That just makes him a bigger arse, being so rigid and whatnot.  Agreements can be changed.”

“I know.  It was cruel, really, especially since it was so obvious the other guy loves him.  I never in my life would have thought the jerk could be so selfish, considering how nice he’d been to the other guy and everything he did for him.”

Dean doesn’t hear anything past “selfish.”  Cas was never selfish.  He was selfless, and patient, and generous, and everything Dean ever wanted.  He’s sick of Gabe calling his brother a jerk and commenting on things he doesn’t know, things he couldn’t possibly understand.  Dean turns down the radio and dials the phone, putting it on speaker so he doesn’t have to hold it with his shaking hands.  Everyone in the room already knows, anyway.  Gabe answers immediately.  

“Hello, you’re on the air with…”

“What the hell, Gabe?  How can you sit there and trash your own brother?” Dean growls.  

“Well hello, Hottie,” Gabe drawls, smug and clearly amused.

“It’s Dean,” he huffs, “and you’re twisting this thing all wrong.  He isn’t a jerk.  We made an agreement, and we stuck to it.  There’s nothing wrong with that.  It’s not his fault my feelings changed, alright?  I knew what this was.  I didn’t plan to… you know, fall in love with him.  But it happened, and that’s on me.  Don’t blame him for that.”

“He had to know, Dean, don’t you think?”

“I never told him.”

“Why not?”

“Because I…”  Dean gathers his courage. “Because it wouldn’t have been fair to him to dump my feelings on him.”

“What about what’s fair to you?” Gabe presses.  “What about your feelings? 

“That’s for me to deal with.”

“Really?” Gabe says.  “Zar, you know my brother.  If you and I were in this situation and you were C.J., would you want to know?”

“Why, yes, I would,” Zar responds, almost as if they’d rehearsed it.

“And why is that?”

“Because, throughout our time together, whether we called it a ‘relationship’ or not, I proved to you time and time again that I cared about your feelings.  Being the sensitive, caring man I am, it would hurt me to know that you are hurting.”

“Exactly,” Gabe says.  “See, Dean, you thought you were protecting him, but really, you were protecting yourself.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but call it like it is.”  

Dean pauses.  “Uh, I, uh…”

“And some people might call that a _jerk move_.  I mean, you both know a bit about _jerk moves,_  don’t you?”  

Dean’s head is starting to spin.  “What… what are you…”

“See, you assumed that I was talking about _you_ when I said that one of you fell in love.”

The crowded waiting room is deadly quiet, everyone poised on the edge to hear what the DJ says next through the little speaker.  Dean stares down at his phone.  “Weren’t you?” he asks slowly, quietly.

“Dean,” he says in as gentle a tone as the man can probably muster, “I was talking about you.  But I wasn’t _only_ talking about you.  Get what I’m saying?”

“Gabe,” Dean says just as gently, his voice tinged with both hope and doubt, “How is that even…”

A commotion startles most of the onlookers, and Dean feels the whoosh of the door opening rapidly.  He looks up and stops, completely forgetting everything and everyone around him except the wild-haired man with tired, sunken blue eyes who looks like he just ran a marathon in a suit.

“Cas?” he asks cautiously.  

“I love you, Dean,” he rasps through heaving breaths.

“Cas, what?” he asks, hardly willing to believe it as he comes around the tall counter apprehensively and stands before the man he loves.  He needs to hear it again.

“Dean.  I love you.”  Cas grabs his coveralls with one hand and his left shoulder with the other.  “I don’t care about our agreement.  I love…”  

Dean pulls him close and stops him with a desperate kiss filled with all the longing he’s been carrying in the pockets of his heart.  Cas, still breathless from his run to Dean’s garage, pants and laughs and kisses Dean over and over as Dean tightens his arms around him, unwilling to let him go now that he’s here.  Between kisses, Dean laughs along with him and whispers “I love you” as relief floods their eyes.  

In the background, everyone in the waiting area cheers and Gabe’s voice says through the phone, “Ah, I love a good love story.  Our work here is done, Zar.  We’ll let you know when the wedding is, my dear listeners!”  Cas and Dean hear none of it, the only important sound being those three little words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, boys! <3 And it’s not over yet! (Because we need reunion sex, don’t we?)
> 
> We will wrap it up with one more chapter and the epilogue next week!
> 
> To see what unfolded on Cas’ side of things, check out chapter 16 of “Just a One-Night Stand” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/13386972).


	17. Chapter 17

Customers and employees alike offer their congratulations as their frenzied kisses slow down and they hold each other in the tidy waiting room that smells faintly of the motor oil that Dean knows and sort of loves.  Without separating, they offer their thanks and nod at several people’s comments that “it’s about time.”  

“Winchester!  Now that you’re not _pining_ anymore, maybe you can actually get some work done!” Rufus gripes when the well-wishers disperse, though the corners of the man’s mouth are ticked up slightly.  Dean rubs his forehead.  He’s really been slacking off, he knows, and Rufus doesn’t deserve that, especially since it seems like he was in on what was clearly a ploy by Gabriel to get them to fess up to their feelings.  

“Sorry,” Cas murmurs to Dean.  “I shouldn’t have barged in at your workplace…”

“Don’t apologize,” Dean says as he gives Cas a kiss on the cheek.  “But yeah, I should get to work.  I’ve been slacking pretty bad lately.”  He hates that he can’t just stay in Cas’ arms forever.  

“Me too,” Cas admits, which makes Dean feel a little bit better.  Given the hours Jo said he was putting in, Dean wonders if he spent half of his time staring at nothing, as Dean had been doing.  “Time for lunch today?” Cas asks.

Dean shakes his head regretfully as he thinks about his schedule.  “Can’t.  Got appointments booked straight through ‘til 5:00.  I’m so far behind, and I didn’t expect...”  He sighs as he looks into Cas’ eyes.   _I could always work late._  “Although, maybe I could…”

“No,” Cas scolds him gently, “you get your stuff done, and come to my house after work.  You can take a shower there if you want, and I’ll make you dinner.”  Dean feels like he finally understands what it means to be so happy you could burst.  

“Damn, you’re the best, Cas,” he says, leaning in for one more kiss before letting go.

“See you tonight, Dean,” he smiles, making Dean’s heart race.  He watches Cas leave and hears Rufus grumbling, “‘Bout time you two smartened up.”

“Won’t hear me disagreeing,” Dean says.  “How’d you know to have me listen to the radio?”

“Your scheming friends,” Rufus grumbles. “Joanna called me to tell me about your DJ friend’s plan and asked me to get you to listen. They figured they had to do something to get your heads out of your asses.”  Rufus watches him with folded arms and a small frown that Dean knows is really a smile.  Dean practically skips across the room and hugs the man he’s known for years.  

“Thanks, Rufus,” Dean says as he pulls back.  Rufus grumbles something but pats him on the shoulder, which is just as good as an embrace in his book.  He whistles while he listens to the radio that’s been turned back to their usual station and gets twice as much done as he usually would.

“Alright, get out of here,” Jesse says as he nudges at Dean’s shoulder at 4:15.  “I’m taking your last appointment.”

“I can do it,” Dean argues, albeit without any enthusiasm.  Jesse rolls his eyes.

“You helped me out when Cesar had his surgery.  Come on.  We’re a family here, alright?  Besides, you getting laid would make all of us happier,” he grins.

“Asshole,” he says, playfully shoving his friend’s shoulder before stripping off his coveralls and straightening his workspace.  

Since he got out a little early, he stops at his apartment to shower and grab a few things.  He’s hopeful that Cas will let him spend the night as he packs a duffel bag with extra clothes, toiletries, and a silky reminder of the night they met.  His face hurts a little from smiling so much.

He pulls into Cas’ driveway next to his car and grabs his bag.  He sees Everett weeding the flowerbeds next door, and to his utter surprise (given his rudeness toward the man when they met), Everett smiles and waves.  Dean waves back with a little smile, then turns toward the house. “Huh,” Dean mutters as he steps inside. “Cas?” he calls.  Smelling steak, he walks toward the smell until he sees Cas outside on the deck, manning the grill.  He’s barefoot and looks more delicious than the steaks he’s taking off the grill and dropping onto a platter.  Dean wraps his arms around him from behind and smiles into his neck as he drops his bag onto the deck.  Cas turns in his arms and Dean greets him with a luscious kiss on his mouth before he moves to every spot he can reach:  under his ears, the cleft of his chin, his eyelids, his collarbone, and every point in between.  Cas is ticklish and some of the kisses make him giggle, which Dean loves, though he loves it even more when he’s sighing in pleasure.

Throughout their dinner of steak, baked potatoes, and watermelon, Cas and Dean talk about their time apart; it’s clear they were both completely miserable, and they vow to put it behind them and move forward.  When it’s time for dessert, Dean searches for a pie server for the juicy, flaky pie Cas brought home from a bakery near his house.  He opens the drawer and sees the gingerbread Cas and Dean figures, still hugging.  

“You kept them,” Dean says.

“I did.  Zar bagged them up for me when he picked up the fans, and I couldn’t bear to get rid of them.”  He smiles, a hint of shyness and pain in his eyes.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Dean says with a soft smile.  He pulls Cas into his arms and kisses him, a long, lingering press of lips that he hopes conveys how much he missed the man.  Cas responds with an arm around his waist and a hand that cradles his face.  It feels like the feeling is mutual.

“You know, dessert is what led to everything else last time,” Cas teases, his eyes sparkling.  Dean knows it’s love he sees there, and he feels damn lucky.    

“I do love dessert best,” Dean winks as he nuzzles Cas’ nose with his own.  “Well, second best,” he adds with the same love in his eyes that fills Cas’.

“You could eat it off my body,” Cas suggests.  “Combine your two loves.”  Dean feels full of bubbly champagne, giddy with relief at the easy way they fall back into their banter and even happier that there is, he hopes, no end in sight.

“Dear God, I’m in love with a genius,” Dean declares.  He picks up the pie and hands it to Cas, along with the forks and the server, then scoops Cas up in his arms and carries him to his bedroom, grinning at him the entire way.  

Dean sets him on the bed, then takes the pie from Cas’ hands and sets it on his dresser, followed by the forks and server.  He crawls onto the bed and undresses him slowly, lavishing his skin with kisses and sweeps of his tongue.  He feels Cas shiver beneath his hands, and the gorgeous man’s reaction drives Dean to test every bit of skin to make him repeat that delicious shiver as much as possible.  Cas clings to him tightly, and a swell against Dean’s thigh makes him _want._   He presses his body tightly against Cas, both to tease the man and to relieve his own swelling desire.  “How ‘bout you pound me this time, Sweetheart?” he asks, low and seductive, before sliding down and taking Cas’ thick cock in his mouth.  Cas moans and swears above him, and Dean can’t help but hum with pride at how he’s affecting the gorgeous man who’s affected him so much more than he knows.  Cas hasn’t answered his question, though, so Dean slowly pulls off with a soft _pop_ and hovers above Cas, caressing his face with the backs of his fingers.  “So?  How ‘bout it?”

A mix of emotions flits through Cas’ eyes, and Dean is uncertain whether he should have asked.  Some men aren’t into switching.  But then Cas reaches a hand out to smooth his fingertips over Dean’s kiss-swollen lips and says, “Are you sure?  We really don’t have to.  I would love to, but it’s perfectly fine if…”  Dean interrupts his protest with a hard, lusty kiss because he gets it.  Cas is asking if _Dean_ is okay with it.  He knows the problems he had with Benny and having to be the bottom all the time, and he wants Dean to feel comfortable.   _God, I love this man._

“You aren’t him or anyone else.  You’re you, and that’s why I absolutely want this.  With you,” he reassures him.  Dean reaches over to the nightstand and fumbles around for the lube, having to slide his hand all the way to the back of the drawer to reach it.  He hands it to Cas and rolls off him and onto his back.  

Cas rolls to his side and gazes at him intensely, doing that thing with his eyes that makes Dean feel so vulnerable yet so known.  He sets the lube aside and leans in, kissing him so deeply Dean feels it in his toes.  He sits him up and tugs his shirt over his head, then lays him back down and wriggles his shorts and boxers off.  Both fully nude now, Cas licks stripes of desire from his ankles to his ears until Dean is a sweet, sticky puddle of want, completely melted and sunk into the mattress like a Popsicle on the sidewalk in the middle of summer.  It’s so different from anything he’s ever known.  He _feels_ the love in every touch.

“What do you want, Dean?” Cas whispers in his tongue-ravished ear.

“I want to feel you inside me,” Dean says with absolute confidence and desire in his voice.  “C’mon, Sweetheart.  Please.”

“Of course,” he says simply, and Cas doesn’t hesitate.  He lifts Dean’s legs and separates them.  Dean expects to feel a cool, lubed finger, but instead feels a warm, wet heat and _oh_.  A high-pitched wail he knows he’s never made before surprises both of them, and Cas looks up. “Is this okay, Dean?  I’ll loosen you with my fingers, too, but I can stop if you’re uncomfortable…”

“No, I mean yes, I mean don’t stop!”  He knows he sounds wanton and desperate with his breathy pleading, but he doesn’t care.  “It’s awesome.  No one’s ever done that for me.  Keep going!”

Cas is a man on a mission then, laving and spearing him with his tongue until he’s certain he’ll die, and die happily.  There’s only one thing that he thinks will be even better, and he can’t wait anymore.

“Please, Cas, I need to feel you in me,” he begs.  In the past he didn’t beg, or if he did it was simply for the pleasure of his partner, even though he hated feeling one-down.  But now… he wants Cas so much, and he doesn’t feel like the begging places him lower than Cas.  They are equals.  Cas smiles and kisses him, then lubes his fingers and adds one, then two of them with no resistance.  He moves to suck on Dean’s cock while he opens him further with a third finger, and though Dean appreciates that Cas is trying to give him as much pleasure as possible, to let him know this is about the both of them, he’s had enough.  He yanks Cas up by his shoulders and kisses him deeply.  “Please,” he whispers between them when they part.  

“Fuck,” Cas says, rubbing his nose against Dean’s as he catches his breath before turning away.  Dean loves seeing Cas fall apart just from their kiss.  He watches him as he digs in the drawer for a condom and rolls it on, then coats himself in lubricant and slides in, facing Dean the entire time.  Once he’s fully seated and made sure Dean’s okay, he kisses and holds and strokes him so carefully, so lovingly, that Dean is finally able to let go and _feel,_  fully trusting in Cas like he’s never trusted another.  That feeling (and the perfect rhythm of Cas’ hips and hands) hurtles him toward orgasm, but it’s Cas’ whispered “I love you” in his ear that pulls him over the edge, Cas following just behind him.  

Sweat cools their bodies as they roll to their sides and separate, neither going any farther than arm’s reach.  They lay facing each other with smiles on their faces and peace in their minds and souls.

“If your brother comes by right now,” Dean mumbles through his post-sex drowsiness as he traces Cas’ features, “I’m gonna kill him.”

“Even though he’s the reason we got our heads out of our asses?”

Dean pretends to think.  “Alright, first I’ll thank him, then I’ll kill him.”

“Alright.  Although we could just kick him out, I suppose.”

“If you insist.”  Dean kisses the tip of his nose.  “Your brother’s kind of a sneaky bastard.”

“He is.  His heart’s usually in the right place, though.”

“Yeah.  Glad he was cheering for us.  In his own demented way.”

“Me too.  We can stop talking about my brother now,” Cas says as he pulls Dean closer.  

Dean snuggles into Cas’ side and agrees, then asks, “What would you like to talk about instead?”

“Hmm.  Let’s talk about everything we can do before we part ways tomorrow.”

A sick dread bubbles in his gut like a cartoon tar pit.   _That’s it?  All these love confessions, the lovemaking, for… what?_  Dean looks up at Cas with a worried frown.  “Part ways?”

“Well, yes.  We do have to go to work tomorrow,” Cas reminds him matter-of-factly, not a hint of teasing in his voice.  The pit of anxiety dries up and disappears.   _Fuck.  Damn bastard doesn’t know how much he scared me._  Dean smacks Cas’ arm, startling him.

“Don’t scare me like that!  Fuck, for a second I thought…”

Cas’ eyes widen in understanding before he kisses Dean fervently in apology.  “Oh Dean, no. I love you,” he reassures him when their lips part.  “I want a relationship.  I want strings attached, tying us together.  I don’t want to part after tonight, or tomorrow night, or any night.  Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Dean says with a sigh of relief, resting his head on Cas’ shoulder and his hand on Cas’ heart.  

“Best agreement ever,” Cas says with a smile Dean can hear in his voice.  He kisses the top of Dean’s head and Dean hums and relaxes in his arms.  “Now, about how we’ll fill the next twelve hours…”

Twelve hours brings an extensive and ecstatic study of Cas’ tattoo in the shower (Dean couldn’t get enough of it), a loud primer in the pleasures of rimming (Dean couldn’t get enough of that, either), a midnight demonstration of Dean’s pink-and-black zippered panties and the prostate stimulating action of Cas’ toy, and a greasy breakfast between the exhausted, love-drunk fools.  

No one is surprised when the men take the day off.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww. Love our boys. <3
> 
> To see things from Cas’ POV, check out chapter 17 of “Just a One-Night Stand” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/13386972).


	18. Epilogue

Dean grumbles as he closes up shop for the day.  Tomorrow is the Independence Day holiday, and they’ll be closed even though they usually only work half-days on Saturdays.   _Thank God, because I can’t deal with another day like today_.  The highlight of his day was seeing Cas at lunchtime, though he seemed really out of it.  He even asked Jo, and frowns as he thinks back on their conversation:  

“Is Cas alright?”

“He’s your boyfriend, Winchester.  How would I know?”

“Is he sick or something?”

“I don’t think so.”

“He just seems off.  He barely ate lunch, and he was restless last night and running around like a bat out of hell this morning before work.  Is this client he has the meeting with later that big of a deal?”

“He’s a pretty big deal,” she shrugged.  “I don’t know, Dean.  I just push the paper around.”

He knew that was bullshit, but he didn’t argue.

“I’m just worried, Jo.  Is he working too hard again, do you think?  I mean, he seems to have loosened up but today he put on the suit again, and it’s 90 degrees.”

“I don’t know how your weirdo boyfriend thinks, okay?  He seems fine,” she said.  

He defended Cas, of course, because he’s not a weirdo.  He’s just experienced life in a way most people don’t, that’s all.  

Jo hadn’t been a help, and so he texted Cas:

_To Cas 1:48pm:  You still want to do date night tonight?_

_To Dean 1:50pm:  Of course.  You don’t?_

_To Cas 1:51pm:  Yeah, of course I do.  Just making sure since you have to work late and all._

_To Cas 1:51pm:  You feeling okay?_

_To Dean 1:52pm:  Yes, why?_

_To Cas 1:52pm:  You just looked kind of pale._

_To Dean 1:53pm:  I’m fine.  Just busy and a little tired.  Didn’t sleep well last night._

_To Cas 1:54pm:  Yeah, I noticed.  Well, I know you’re busy, but don’t work too hard.  I already told you I’m not into corpse sex.  ;P_

_To Dean 1:55pm:  Don’t worry, I won’t work too hard.  See you tonight at 7:00.  Love you._

_To Cas 1:55pm:  Love you_

The texting made him feel only slightly better.  He said he was fine, so he had to believe him.  But between that and the asshole customer he had to deal with earlier, he isn’t feeling all that great as he tromps to his car.  At least he has their date night to look forward to.  It became a thing not long after they started dating.  Sometimes they go out for drinks or dinner, sometimes they go to concerts or movies, and sometimes they do things that are a little out of the ordinary.  One memorable date night was a whole weekend spent in an isolated cabin in the woods, where they hung out naked all day and howled at the moon… literally.  It was strangely freeing.  That was the same weekend they managed to actually break a bed frame. _Oops._ Well, the bed frame was obviously old and ready to give out, anyway.  And it was some fuckin’ _fabulous_ sex.  Totally worth the money they had to pay the owners of the cabin for a new frame.  He smiles fondly at the memory.  _Fuck_ , he loves that man.  

He’s meeting Cas at 7:00 at the Roadhouse.  He thought maybe they’d do something special tonight, since it’s July 3, but he’s not sure if Cas remembers the significance of the date or not.  Dean does.  He won’t ever forget the first time they had sex (even though it was followed by a couple of weeks of misery).  Well, if Cas doesn’t remember, Dean will remind him in a way that’s sure to jog his memory.  He smirks to himself as he drives home.

Dean’s phone rings as he unlocks the door to the house he now shares with Cas. “Yes, hello baby,” he says to their dog, Sadie, who greets him excitedly. He looks at his phone and sees it’s Sam.  “Yo,” Dean answers, leaning down to rub Sadie’s belly.

“Yo. You up for a movie tonight?”

“Can’t. Date night,” Dean says as he digs through the fridge, needing something to take the edge off his hunger. He doesn’t know if Cas wants to eat at the Roadhouse or if he’s going to eat before his meeting. A lot of the food is for tomorrow’s party, though, so he gives up the fridge search and pulls out bread and peanut butter instead.

“Oh yeah. Well, can we swing by and bring the desserts for the barbecue over tonight instead of dragging them there tomorrow? Jess is pretty tired in the mornings these days.”

Dean smiles, thinking of his pregnant sister-in-law. “Yeah, sure. I’m not meeting up with Cas until 7:00. Swing by, then take that wife of yours out to dinner.”

“She barely eats. There are too many smells that make her nauseous,” Sam explains. “First trimester sucks.”

“Pregnancy is weird,” Dean comments, and Sam grunts. “Alright, well, see you in a bit.” They say their goodbyes and Dean plugs in his phone (he still hasn’t gotten over the fact that he has to plug the damn thing in daily — his old phone could hold a charge for a week), then feeds Sadie and swallows down a bite of the peanut butter sandwich he made. He pouts as he eats in relative silence, used to Cas being around when he gets home, especially on Fridays. Dean even changed his work schedule so that he could get out early on Fridays, too, like Cas does, though he didn’t bother to leave early today. He was a bit irritated when Cas told him he had a client late on a Friday, but he got over himself. Sometimes, when you own your own business, you gotta do what you gotta do. He thinks back to the ex who used to work late on Fridays, or so he said, and shakes his head. He trusts Cas in a way he never quite trusted Benny, even when they were together, and Cas has never betrayed that trust.

Dean’s brother and sister-in-law stop by just as he’s getting out of a very thorough shower in anticipation of later.

“Don’t change on our account,” Jess laughs when Dean answers the door in a towel and excuses himself to their bedroom.  “Obviously you’re already dressed for date night!”  Dean laughs from the bedroom and imagines Sam is rolling his eyes. He can be such a prude sometimes.

“I _was_ ,” Dean says when he comes back out in nice jeans and a fitted short-sleeved shirt. “But that’s okay. Still got the butt plug in so we’re good to go.”  Jess cackles and Sam blanches, which is exactly the reaction Dean wanted.

“Dean…” Sam groans.

“You’re too easy,” Dean says, shaking his head and patting his brother’s face.

“So what are you and your hunka hunka burnin’ love doing tonight?” Jess asks, petting Sadie and leaning against the arm of the plush couch (one of Dean’s favorite things about the house, especially after putting up with the lumpy monstrosity at the old apartment).

“I don’t know. Drinks, at least.” Dean helps Sam put the desserts into the packed refrigerator.

“Sounds fun.”  She looks around the space. “Your house is super clean, holy shit. You guys have really been busy getting ready for this party tomorrow, huh?”

“Cas has been stress-cleaning.  I told him this party was no big deal, but he’s really wired.  Barely ate today. I thought it was this client he has tonight, but maybe it’s the party. Never took him for such a nervous Nelly.”

“Hmm,” Jess says. “Well, it’s probably just that you guys are now becoming part of a tradition, you know?  It’s a pretty big step in a relationship.  Permanence.”

“I guess,” Dean says, his face screwed up in thought.

“Think you’re ready to take the plunge?” Jess asks. For Dean, it’s a no-brainer.

“Yeah,” he smiles. “I never thought I’d have someone to carry on these traditions with, you know?”

“Well, now you do,” she smiles in return.

“Yeah.”  He feels himself smiling stupidly and hears his brother snickering behind him, but he can’t be bothered to care. He’s happy, and that’s not something he takes for granted.

They talk for a while longer before Jess complains of fatigue and they head out, promising to see him tomorrow. In the silence of the house, Dean contemplates Jess’ words. Cas is it for him, that he knows for sure. He hopes Cas knows that. They did Thanksgiving and Christmas together with most of the same people that will be here tomorrow, but they haven’t hosted such a large family gathering yet. It does mean something.  And it was Cas’ idea, which warms Dean from the inside out. The feeling dances through his body and makes him restless.  He looks at the time and, deciding it’ll be close enough to 7:00 when he arrives, says goodbye to the dog, grabs his keys, and heads to the Roadhouse. He parks in the back out of habit and walks inside.

“Auntie El!” Dean shouts when he sees Ellen at the bar. She squints at him menacingly, and he shoots her a winning grin that only earns him a roll of the eyes.

“Be right with you, pain in the ass,” she snarks as she walks away. Dean looks around at the fairly quiet space. A lot of people don’t know that the Roadhouse is a great place for dinner, too. Their loss. It gets hopping later in the evening, so he supposes Ellen doesn’t mind too much.

“Hey,” she smiles when she returns. “How’ve you been?”

“Shitty day today, but awesome overall,” he answers. “Cas is meeting me here.”

“Ah, so your day is about to get better, then,” she winks. Dean chuckles and agrees.

“I’ll take a beer while I’m waiting,” he says.

“No, you won’t,” she retorts, and he frowns.

“Why not?”

“It’s rude to start without your man,” she reasons.

“He won’t care!”

“No.”  

Dean stops arguing, and Ellen tells him the story of when he slept at her house as a kid and peed in the trash can when he was sleepwalking. He roars with laughter, his stressful day starting to slough away.

“Know where I can find some fun around here?” Cas murmurs in his ear as he strokes his arm, and Dean shivers with the feeling of excitement he still gets around Cas.

“Hell yeah I do,” Dean grins at him, turning his face to Cas’ for a kiss.  They giggle through several light kisses before Cas settles onto a barstool.  

“Have you eaten yet?” Cas asks.

“Nah, figured I’d wait for you, see what you wanted to do.”

“Mmm, okay.  Beer first, then we can decide?” Cas asks.

“Sounds good.  Ellen said it was rude to start without you, so she wouldn’t give me a beer,” Dean says with a pout.  Cas grins.

“You poor thing,” he teases.  Dean sticks his tongue out at him, but Cas is already calling Ellen over and ordering them each a beer, so Dean takes a moment to check Cas out. He looks hot — figuratively and literally — in his suit. Dean hasn’t seen it in a while, since Cas has switched to business casual, but it still does things to him. It reminds him of the first time he saw him at this same bar, harried and tipsy. These days, he looks relaxed and happy. Dean loves that he’s part of that.

Ellen returns with the two beers a short while later, and they each take long draughts, allowing the comfortable silence between them to linger as they decompress from the week.  Cas looks like he definitely needs it. He’s a ball of stress. He waits for Cas to speak up, knowing that Cas will ask for whatever he needs. “Tell me about your day,” Cas says, and Dean understands Cas’ message. He’s not ready to talk, for whatever reason.

“Ugh, it sucked,” he says. “Morning was crap, but seems like everything really went downhill after lunch. Guy wanted a part for his car that we can’t give him because they’re illegal to have on your car here, but this jackhole didn’t want to listen. Argues with me for thirty fuckin’ minutes. Says he’s gonna go elsewhere, and I told him good fuckin’ luck, and if he gets someone to do it for him he shouldn’t trust ‘em because they’re breaking the law. He told me I’m a jerk and I told him he was an asshole.”  Cas snickers.  He’s been listening with his usual focus, even if he seems a little preoccupied. “So I guess I blew my Yelp review with the guy,” Dean laughs as he finishes. Now that he’s here with Cas, the rest of his day seems like it’s inconsequential.

“Wow, sounds like your day really sucked,” Cas offers, and Dean nods. Even when Cas doesn’t say much, he says enough.  He places a hand on Dean’s leg.  Dean knows it’s meant for comfort, but he goes for the joke, hoping to lighten Cas’ mood.   

“Gettin’ frisky with me, Cas?” he says as he takes a swig of his beer to wet his palate.

“Just wish I could make your day better,” Cas says, and his constant concern for him makes Dean want to cry a little.

“You are, just by bein’ here,” Dean reassures him, placing his hand over Cas’.  “Although, I know a way you could make my day better,” he leers, wiggling his brows and grinning.  Cas laughs, and Dean is thrilled that he is able to make the light he loves return to Cas’ eyes.  Cas leans forward and grins.

“I bet you do.”  Cas touches his face in that way he does, the way that makes Dean feel like the most important person in the world. “Would you like to be my one-life stand, Dean?”  

Dean is reminded again of the night they met, right here, both drunk and miserable.  They shared their mutual misery and laughed harder than two strangers should, and when Cas asked him to be his one-night stand then, he felt so lucky. It’s nothing compared to how lucky he feels to have the man in his life now. He grins and chuckles affectionately.  

“I would love to be your…” Dean starts, until his brain catches up with what Cas actually said. “Wait, what?” Dean asks.

“My one-life stand,” Cas says, sliding off the stool and digging into his pocket with his free hand while his other hand remains locked with Dean’s.  He holds up a silver ring, the plain band catching the reflection of the bar lights. _Oh my God. Is he proposing?_ Dean’s mouth drops open and his eyes fill with tears while his brain goes completely offline. “Will you be my one-life stand, Dean?” Cas continues in a quivering voice. “Will you marry me?”

He looks from the ring to Cas’ watery eyes several times as he tries to grasp the situation.   _Cas wants to marry me. Cas wants to marry me.  Me. Out of everyone in this world.  After he got screwed over once before.  He wants to marry me._ “Cas,” Dean whispers.  Cas watches him, waiting. “Yeah,” he chuckles, then laughs aloud as his eyes spill over.  “Yes.  Yes!”  he shouts, finally pressing his face against Cas’ for a short, sweet, very damp kiss, the first of thousands to come.  

Dean is surprised by shouts and cheers erupting behind them.  Their family and friends are there, rejoicing with them, sharing in their moment. It’s overwhelming in its perfection. Cas knows how much their friends and family mean to him, and all of them — his parents, Cas’ parents, their siblings, Charlie, Jo, Max and Zeke, Zar, Hannah, Sarah, and even Ev, who stuck around and has become a great friend — are here to support them as they start this new thing together. Cas takes his hand and slips the silver ring on his finger, then slides a matching ring onto his own. It’s a commitment, an agreement of a completely different kind.

“Best agreement ever,” Dean whispers in Cas’ ear before their loved ones surround them.  

“Agreed,” Cas says, pulling Dean close and kissing him.  And as they separate and Cas gazes at him with amusement and love, Dean sends a message to a very special friend:

_Lady Luck, there’s a spot in our wedding party for you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’d like to see Cas’ side of things, including his nervous chat with Gabe and Jo and the family gathering in the parking lot, check out the final chapter of “Just a One-Night Stand” (http://archiveofourown.org/works/13386972).
> 
> Wow, it’s over! Thank you to all of you for reading and leaving kudos and comments. Special thanks to those of you who have followed through as each chapter was posted. <3 Whether you choose to comment/kudo or not, please know that I am so grateful you’ve visited my story!
> 
> Writing two stories at once was both a challenge and an incredibly cool, fun adventure. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading as much as I’ve enjoyed writing. 
> 
> If you liked this, you might like some of my other stuff, so feel free to check out my other works and/or subscribe if you feel inspired to do so. Also, I’m on Tumblr by the same name, but I only check it maybe once a week or whenever I remember. :p
> 
> And finally, here’s a little preview of my next fic, coming soon!
> 
> Kinda Like Family, Kinda Like Love
> 
> Cas Milton has wanted nothing more than to have children of his own. But when he finally gets his chance after years of disappointment, a strict set of rules almost dashes those dreams. Enter Dean Winchester: eternal bachelor, friend, and suddenly, Cas’ fiancé. Join Cas and Dean as they navigate marriage, adoption, and something that starts to feel kinda like love.


End file.
